Original Poetry.

Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser, Volume VI, Issue 534, 26 August 1881, Page 3

Original Poetry.

THE DRY WELL.

SUGGESTED by a picture. All day beneath the burning sun the weary travellers pressed Over the scorching desert sands ; they did _*. not dare to rest; With cruel thirst half dying, they at length a well espy ; One cry of joy and then a moan—alas! the well was dry. The agony of mortal pain—a ternhle desp iris written on their countenance —to die— to die—*md there. Beside their goal, after their toil —ah! who their pain can tell, The torture of their thirst till death beside the empty well. Travellers through life press on and on over the burning plain, Ambition calls them from its heights though thousands it hath slain With its delusive hopes ; it such a specious mask doth wear ; We onward press for glory, and wo find no water there. Riches and fame lie temptingly beyond us fin the road, Some press toward them, heeding not their present heavy load, For by and by they deem they'll drink ; their purest streams have fold, And with an uncpienched thirst, die by an empty well of gold. And some have counted human love will yield a constant spring, _Ard starting out on life no other water bring, Counting upon such fountains to give a rich supply. How bitter is the anguish when these ■*■ wells are growing dry ! Travellers in life, ye need to carry ever by your side A full supply of water, and whatever then betide, How long may be the journey ye need not fear to press, Courage and hope, this water, will strengthen in distress; Patience, the branch to rob it of its greatest bitterness. ALICE.