HOPE.

Clutha Leader, Volume II, Issue 83, 10 February 1876, Page 7

HOPE.

By Perm Polytalo. Hope is the soul's true anchorage, When life's rude storm? around her rage ; Its rocks arid shoals, all safely passed, Her refuge there, she finds at last. A bark, dismasted, tempest tossed ; Compass destroyed, and anchor lost ; No helm to guide, nor arm to steer ; A helpless crew, driven none knows where, Such -1 Such is man, launched on life's sea ; Foiled by despair, no power to floe ; His every expectation fled ; A human wreck — alive, yet dead. Yon miners, seeking golden ore, Their subterranean caves explore — -Where bides his time, by night, by day, 'Neath flinty rock, and crumbling clay : To hurl destruction, death lurks hid — By hope — -which serves tho' fear forbid — Are -cheered, amid fatigue and pain ; And still seek, t'ven when search is vain.' The pale young mother, watching there Beside her lily, dropping, fair ; . With anxious eye and heaving breast ; Morn, noon, and night, refusing rest : Clings to it's shade, when hope has fled ; * Clings ! till the fluttering pulse has slid, " One feeble breath and all is o'er ; My cherished one is thine no more-" " Australia's wilds, who bids thee dare, It's craving thirst, and Sole's fierce glare ; The fatal club, the treacherous spear ; Who bids: "these brave, bold pioneer?" 'Tis hope— it lures o'er tracks that lead "Where Burke and Wills life's forfeit paid j • Or where poor Leichardt still remains : . Through primal forests, primal plains, Hope! glorious Hope ! 'tis heaven's own beam, Fringing with silver's radiant gleam Earth's darkest clouds of blank despair : Diffusing blessings every whei-e, -