Page:A Treasury of South African Poetry.djvu/296

 LIFE.

always, reaping naught,

Never finding what is sought,

Life with all unrest is fraught,

Pain with joy walks hand in hand,

Casting shadows o'er the land,

A mysterious, mocking band.

Love draws but a fitful breath:

Hate soon steals her rosy wreath.

Life springs forth from ghastly Death.

How to part the tangled thread

Which before me now is spread,

I cannot tell. In pious dread,

At the footstool of my King

I will leave all questioning,

All my vain unravelling.

"Mu."