Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/189

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Her Secret.
153
She likes this shaded corner best, The rosy lamp, the Dresden set,A friend or two, perhaps, a waft    Of mignonette.
And some one touches in the gloom The harp’s mysterious, wailing strings,And thoughts that never spoke in words    Take music’s wings.
Dear friend, though tired and far away, I still can seek your door in Spain,Sit still beside your fire and drink    That tea again!

Anne Glenny Wilson.

XC.

Her Secret.

She moves sedate, through garden ways Or ancient parlours cool and shady;Content in quiet length of days, A typical old maiden lady.With soul as snowy as the lace That lappets o’er her faded tresses,And sweet as violets fragrant trace That haunts her quaintly fashioned dresses.One single crime her heart within, In quiet hours of meditationMust be confessed, a hidden sin To stir that soul to trepidation.
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