Page:Moyarra- An Australian Legend in Two Cantos, 1891.djvu/67

 Ascending in a radiant tide, In purest particles alone Soaring to attain th' Almighty throne— Impelled by power which tempers all, Such is our doom—we rise or fall. Yet are there hours (who has not known?) When, of our rigid task abhorrent, We fain would, like the sullen torrent, Court the abyss before us thrown, Rather than, on the wings of faith— Our sordid part resigned to Death As the mist-wreath to flee from earth Freed from the taint that dimmed our birth. And why? but that the past still flings Its gloom o'er all the future brings: Hope meted by our pleasures past Deserves not that her shrine should last: Fruition follows not her bloom: Pining expectance droops her plume: Whatever our pursuit, the part Achieved sates not the longing heart Restless, immortal, destined here to roam Striving 'mid finite things to build itself a home.