Original Poetry.
IJFR Life is like a journey, I have oft heard tell, —■ Like this little burnie That wirapleth thro' the dell. Like the winding bnrnie That rnnneth to the sea,—? Life's an onward journey, Both to you and me. Small and babbling at its source, Like a prattling child, It grows larger on its course, It grows sometimes wild. Ilere 'tis deep and placid, Clear and smooth as glass,—? I see myself reflected, As o'er the bridge I pass. The trees are mirrored in it, The blue sky overhead,— Thro' the translucent waters I see the pebbly bed. Now it roars and rumbles, Tearing madly on; Foaming as it tumbles O'er its bed of stone, Life is like a journey, ' I have oft heard tell, — Like this winding buruie That wimpleth thro' the delU Like this little burnie Hasting to the sea, — Life's an onward journey, Both to you and me. C. M. H., Wanganui,
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Hawke's Bay Times, Volume 17, Issue 938, 8 February 1871, Page 2
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156Original Poetry. Hawke's Bay Times, Volume 17, Issue 938, 8 February 1871, Page 2
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