Page:Moyarra- An Australian Legend in Two Cantos, 1891.djvu/47



In hours with bitterest anguish fraught Hope courts each vision fancy-wrought; Each aid, though fragile as the reed That mocks the drowning suppliant's need. Though Reason's monitory call May warn us from delusion's thrall, Hope, like the rainbow's lovely form, Waves its bright hues to mock the storm, Luring from earth our dull regard Like Icarus on high to soar; Alas! like his, too, our reward: The pleasant paths of earth no more To trace; in the ocean of despair Wailing the loss of visions fair Whose fairy scenes, that charmed the sight, Rose but to whelm in deeper night The trusting heart that fain would think They wooed it from destruction's brink. Alas! when sorrow's bitter cup The hand of fate hath lifted up, What mortal hand hath power to fling The pestilent potion to the wind ?