3 min read
Слушать

The Australian

CE more this Autumn-earth is ripe,    Parturient of another type.    While with the Past old nations merge  His foot is on the Future’s verge.    They watch him, as they huddle, pent,          Striding a spacious continent,    Above the level desert’s marge  Looming in his aloofness large.    No flower with fragile sweetness graced—  A lank weed wrestling with the waste;            Pallid of face and gaunt of limb,  The sweetness withered out of him;    Sombre, indomitable, wan,  The juices dried, the glad youth gone.    A little weary from his birth,          His laugh the spectre of a mirth,    Bitter beneath a bitter sky,  To Nature he has no reply.    Wanton, perhaps, and cruel.

Yes,  Is not his sun more merciless?            So drab and neutral is his day,  He finds a splendour in the grey,    And from his life’s monotony  He draws a dreary melody.    When earth so poor a banquet makes          His pleasures at a gulp he takes;    The feast is his to the last crumb:  Drink while he can…the drought will come.    His heart a sudden tropic flower,  He loves and loathes within an hour.            Yet you who by the pools abide,  Judge not the man who swerves aside;    He sees beyond your hazy fears;  He roads the desert of the years;    Rearing his cities in the sand,          He builds where even God has banned;    With green a continent he crowns,  And stars a wilderness with towns;    With paths the distances he snares;  His gyves of steel the great plain wears.            A child who takes a world for toy,  To build a nation or destroy,    His childish features frozen stern,  His manhood’s task he has to learn—    From feeble tribes to federate          One white and peace-encompassed State.    But if there be no goal to reach?…  The track lies open, dawns beseech!    Enough that he lay down his load  A little farther on the road.            So, toward undreamt-of destinies  He slouches down the centuries.

0
0
83
Give Award

Arthur Henry Adams

Arthur Henry Adams (6 June 1872 – 4 March 1936) was a journalist and author. He started his career in New Zealand, though he spent most of it in…

Other author posts

Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments

Reading today

Зеркальное отражение
Телефонная будка
Ryfma
Ryfma is a social app for writers and readers. Publish books, stories, fanfics, poems and get paid for your work. The friendly and free way for fans to support your work for the price of a coffee
© 2024 Ryfma. All rights reserved 12+