The Lady.
When the red rose rests on her breast's hid snow, As sweet as a rose is she ; And her brow is white as the lilies that blow In the shade of the lilac tree. The violet's hue is her bright eyes' dower ; Like the pink is the tint of her cheek ; And her lips glow red as the rata-flower, When they open sweet woi'ds to speak. Coo sweetly and gently, 0 pearl-necked dove ! 0 bell-bird, thy voice fling wide ! Your notes cannot match with the tones that I love, When my lady is by my side. Soft sunshine, falling on fern-leaf and tree, Makes saintly the forest aisle ; But a holier beauty there seems to me In my lady's gracious smile. All her looks and her ways rebuke the deed, The words and the thoughts of sin; For her smile, and speech, and mien proceed From a holy soul within. H. L. TwiSLETOiS.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZI19010201.2.11
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, 1 February 1901, Page 384
Word Count
155The Lady. New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, 1 February 1901, Page 384
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