POETS’ CORKER.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2598, 4 September 1909, Page 3 (Supplement)

POETS’ CORKER.

THAT OLD, OLD PATHWAY

We cry, We talk, We laugh, We walk; Our mother’s pride and joy. We fight, We swear, And pants We wear; Our fathers little boy. We dance, We smoke, Hold hands, And joke; A girl, and then a row. We drink, We eat, Play cards. And treat; The fellows claim us now. 1 We love, We’re led, ■'_> We woe; We wed; At leisure we repent. We work, We sigh, And soon We die; So many a life is speivc. WHEN SHE SAYS “YES.” When she says “yes” you’re happy, And buy her a diamond ring, It looks very nice on her finger, Just the identical thing. You go for a row on the rivar, On a beautiful summer’s day; But you don’t do. very much rowing You’ve got so much' to say. You tell her the old, old stoi*y, And whisper words of love, ile the thrush trills out a welcome, And the lark soars high above. And the world’s a fairy garden, Which just holds two, And she’s the Queen of the Fairies, But you’re just you. You wandtr through the woodlands, By many a sylvan glade, And you weave a crown of daisies, For the dear little maid.

Oh. when sho says “yes” you’re happy. And buy her a diamond ring, And she’s dearer to you than mountains of gold, She s'the one and only thing. '—Contributed by David Scott.