FATE.
BY BKET HAUTE. The sky is clouded, the rocks are bare ! The spray of the tempest is white in • air ; The wind* arc out with the waves at play, And I shall uot tempt the sea to-day. Tho trail is narrow, the wood is dim, The panther clings to tho arching limb ; And the lion's whelps are abroad at play, And I shall not join in the chase today. But the ship sailed safely over the sea. And the hunters came from the chaie in glee ; And the town that, was builded upon the rock Was wallowed up in the earthquake shock.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WT18860508.2.30.2
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Waikato Times, Volume xxvi, Issue 2458, 8 May 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)
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103FATE. Waikato Times, Volume xxvi, Issue 2458, 8 May 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)
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