SELECT POETRY.

Southland Times, Issue 860, 6 December 1867, Page 3

SELECT POETRY.

AN OLD MAN'S MUSINGS. My fire burns low ; my course is nearly run ; The greatest good on earth, to me, is Best ; What can an old man do, and do his best, But idly ponder when his work is done ? I "was a Tory. He who turned the sod And delved, and led with brawny arms the plough, Rubbing the salt sweat from his sunburnt brow Was little better than a cumbering clod ! The cry was then " to keep the toiler down :" He slaved to make, and I used what he made— I saw him ghastly live and ghostly fade ; Oppressed, neglected, in the teeming town. Ah me ! what would I now give for the youth And strength and power to work a long day's toil ! What would I give to live to till the soil, And try to grasp this era's growiag Truth. I bow my head to learn, to love to sigh O'er foolish words many !) hotly spoken, Ere E was crushed with age, and spirit broken . Against my fellows worthier than I ! 'Tis over now — the foolish conflict fret ; I view the past to-day — it has been Vain — I view the past and feel the ache and pain. The humbling anguish of a sad regret .'