BUSH BALLADS AND RHYMES 



And the chaff may burn with unquenchable 



fire, 

 But for green wild growth of thistle and briar, 

 At least there is no renewing. 



And this grievous burden of life shall change 

 In the dim hereafter, dreamy and strange, 



And sorrows and joys diurnal. 

 And partial blessings and perishing ills 

 Shall fade in the praise, or the pang that fills 

 The glory of God's eternal hills, 



Or the gloom of His gulf eternal. 



Yet if all things change to the glory of One 

 Who for all ill-doers gave His Own sweet Son, 



To His goodness so shall He change ill, 

 When the world as a wither'd leaf shall be, 

 And the sky like a shrivell'd scroll shall fiee, 

 And souls shall be summon'd from land and sea. 



At the blast of His briofht archano^el. 



