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Suggested by seeing the mesasng*r ride into Lawrence after the lute accident at the Spur. For saddling or groQining no time, I trow, No picking & path, but as shaft from a bow, Through marsh and through brake, on, on, I haste, | O'er stream and by cottage, through garden and i waste ; ! ?here is death in a stumble, and life is the meed flf strength and endurance, my gallant steed. A white, bloo.l besprent face still urges me on, , I think of a mother bewailing her son, ! Auil I tighten the rsin, set my teeth, and dash throngh, Whatever uiau dares I feel able to do. Fast homesteads made vocal with swe6t childhood's voice, My sorrow grows keen as I hear them rejoice. i'Tis a life that I ride for— a far nobler prize ;Than the gqld fo.p which truth is held light sacrifice — iAud a fierce pleasure thrills me a3 onward I speed, jAnd the maddening infection ia caught by my steed ; $fo need for the lash, no flagging is Been, JKII the gaol is reached, quickly and safely, I ween. P. Q. £awr£nce, Nov. 21st, 1868.
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Tuapeka Times, Volume 42, Issue I, 28 November 1868, Page 5
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188LINES Tuapeka Times, Volume 42, Issue I, 28 November 1868, Page 5
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