The River by Kathleen Dalziel

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Oh! uneventful days, about me flowing  
   So fast, your even current carries me
Onward, through changing vale and vista going,
   Till lost, far out at sea.

The landscape alters, far hills drawing nigher,
   Though lesser they become, in very truth
The further that you bear me from the higher
   Blue mountains of my youth

So quietly, I scarcely heed the motion,
   So like to like the days, set end to end.
Yet who knows? One may suddenly see the ocean
   Loom round the nearest bend

Loom round the nearest bend, and the white breakers
   And that uncharted gulf that waits all men.
Oh! what, beyond these peaceful autumn acres,
   Beyond the bar-what then?

Oh, River of Time, seeking Eternity,
   That end accomplished, shall the end be less
Than that of some lost atom in a sea
   Of utter nothingness?

Or shall some rich sea change suffice? Our wills
   Part of some mighty cycle to become;
As the sun draws the rains back to the hills,
   And as the streams run home.

First published in The Sydney Morning Herald, 22 August 1931

Author reference site: Austlit

See also.

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This page contains a single entry by Perry Middlemiss published on August 22, 2014 8:19 AM.

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