BUSH BALLADS AND RHYMES 



The skies ! Will the great skies care for 



Our footsteps, straighten our path, 

 Or strengthen our weakness ? Wherefore ? 



We have rather incurr'd their wrath ; 

 When against the Captain of Hazor 



The stars in their courses fought, 

 Did the sky shed merciful rays, or 



With love was the sunshine fraught ? 



Can they favour man ? Can they wrong man ? 



The unapproachable skies ? 

 Though these gave strength to the strongman, 



And wisdom orave to the wise ? 

 When strength is turn'd to derision, 



And wisdom brought to dismay, 

 Shall we wake from a troubled vision 



Or rest from a toilsome day ? 



Nay ! I cannot tell. Peradventure 



Our very toil is a dream, 

 And the works that we praise or censure 



It may be, they only seem. 

 If so, I would fain awaken 



Or sleep more soundly than so, 



Or by dreamless sleep overtaken 



The dream I would vain forego. 



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