SELECT POETRY.

New Zealander, Volume 9, Issue 719, 5 March 1853, Page 4

SELECT POETRY.

THE WAY OF THE WORLD. A CAT,I.AD FOK THE TIMES. On ! but it’s war to the knife, man ! Selfish and desperate strife, man! Nothing will serve But resolute nerve To battle the battle of life, man ! What do they care for your cares, man ? What are your troubles to theirs, man ? Nobody heeds How the heart bleeds, Nor how a poor fellow fores, man ! Each for himself is the thought, man ! All the world else is as nought, man ! Each has his fill Of fighting up hill, And fiercely the battle is fought man ! Yes—you may do good or ill, man ! Battle as well ns you will, man ! Nobody caresNobody’s prayr’s Help in this battle uphill, man! Wrapt in a mantle of pride, man ! Standing aloof and aside, man ! Each one alone Hunts for his own, Cold as the world and as wide, man ! Aye, it is bitter to think, man ! That you may swim or may sink, man ! With the world’s glance Coldy askance Watching you over the blink, man ! Everything’s thrown on the shelf, man ! Other than pleasure or pelf, man ! Be what you may, You’re clean flung away If you cannot serve the world’s self, man ! Martin f. Topper.