POEMS.
107
Perchance it does, I cannot tell, I only know to me
For ever and for ever she is my Dorothy!
For ever and for ever she is my Dorothy!
THE STREET SINGER.
DAY was dying in the city,
And the stars were shining bright
Far across the dappled heavens
Into shades of deepest night.
And the stars were shining bright
Far across the dappled heavens
Into shades of deepest night.
Down a crowded street, where houses,
Blacken'd by the smoke of years,
Stood in sombre shadows, bearing
Semblance to life's grief and tears,
Blacken'd by the smoke of years,
Stood in sombre shadows, bearing
Semblance to life's grief and tears,
Sang a maid in tatter'd garments,
With a voice so sweet and low;
Half in sadness, half in gladness,
Came those echoes faint and slow.
With a voice so sweet and low;
Half in sadness, half in gladness,
Came those echoes faint and slow.
As the stately swan when dying
Breathes a long, a wild refrain,
So this maiden sang in gushes,
Taking captive heart and brain.
Breathes a long, a wild refrain,
So this maiden sang in gushes,
Taking captive heart and brain.
"Auld Lang Syne" upon the breezes
Floated on the wings of night;
Up above the skies it mounted
Far beyond the azure height.
****
Floated on the wings of night;
Up above the skies it mounted
Far beyond the azure height.
****
