Page:Moyarra- An Australian Legend in Two Cantos, 1891.djvu/72

 His soul alike might perfect grow, Secure never again to know Or pain, or sorrow, or that worst Of ills with which the heart is curst, A sense of thanklessness to Him Who framed our being here, a dim Yearning for nothingness again To free us from the world's dull chain.

Around by dusky chiefs arrayed Now low in earth is Mytah laid:— While o'er her early bier they hung Her closing requiem, thus they sung:

Thou art gone from us, Mytah! the salt tears of woe Are our portion on earth, now thou art laid low: One sun beheld thee with breath as light As the soft summer wind at morn that weaves Its melody 'mid the silvery leaves Of the pendulous acacia's boughs; Another viewed thee far and faint Sighing like the mournful plaint