A MORAL.
There was a time when it was found The people wanted farming ground. ’Twas told bj Apostolic sages, This time would not arrive for years, So much that in its latter stages, This deep-felt want nigh disappears. Life’s varied drama ever proves How void of wisdom are the moves Of those who seek by unfair ways To grasp at wealth they ne’er can reach ! No peaceful mind o’er with them stays. But anxious cares discretion teach. In former rhymes I do allege I’ve driv’n my chariot nigh the edge Of poets’ license—ne’er o’erstepped ; Men’s nature seems to need extremes; Had wilful Fancy always slept, The “Blessed Twelve” were lost in dreams ! Th’ Apostles recognize no tether In forming plans their nests to feather; The PEOPLE, too, should recognize No law but that of self-defence ; OUTBID ! Play boldly for the prize! The PLAINS will be your recompense!
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Hawke's Bay Times, Volume IV, Issue 185, 29 July 1864, Page 3
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148A MORAL. Hawke's Bay Times, Volume IV, Issue 185, 29 July 1864, Page 3
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