Page:Moyarra- An Australian Legend in Two Cantos, 1891.djvu/92

 Or, fearful, tempted the stern shade By the old moss-grown parapet made, Doubting to leave thy light which wont To quiver o'er the embattled front, A lustre seeming to impart Hallowing the remains of art. As o'er those ruins thou could'st shed A recompense for glory fled, A holier grandeur granting them Than was their boast in day's broad gleam So, o'er the wreck of feeling crushed Thy midnight hour, when all is hushed A balm doth fling which can awhile Of all its woes the heart beguile, Prompting, since joy may never last, A grateful memory of the past. Yes! those were happy times, when youth Imagined, and received for truth Its halcyon dreams; in every dell A fairy spirit feigned to dwell, And fancied in the wind's low sigh Tones of aerial minstrelsy. But why enumerate the thousand ties Subtilely woven with love's sympathies