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<h2> On a Cattle Track </h2>
<p>
Where the strength of dry thunder splits hill-rocks asunder,<br/>
And the shouts of the desert-wind break,<br/>
By the gullies of deepness and ridges of steepness,<br/>
Lo, the cattle track twists like a snake!<br/>
Like a sea of dead embers, burnt white by Decembers,<br/>
A plain to the left of it lies;<br/>
And six fleeting horses dash down the creek courses<br/>
With the terror of thirst in their eyes.<br/>
<br/>
The false strength of fever, that deadly deceiver,<br/>
Gives foot to each famishing beast;<br/>
And over lands rotten, by rain-winds forgotten,<br/>
The mirage gleams out in the east.<br/>
Ah! the waters are hidden from riders and ridden<br/>
In a stream where the cattle track dips;<br/>
And Death on their faces is scoring fierce traces,<br/>
And the drouth is a fire on their lips.<br/>
<br/>
It is far to the station, and gaunt Desolation<br/>
Is a spectre that glooms in the way;<br/>
Like a red smoke the air is, like a hell-light its glare is,<br/>
And as flame are the feet of the day.<br/>
The wastes are like metal that forges unsettle<br/>
When the heat of the furnace is white;<br/>
And the cool breeze that bloweth when an English sun goeth,<br/>
Is unknown to the wild desert night.<br/>
<br/>
A cry of distress there! a horseman the less there!<br/>
The mock-waters shine like a moon!<br/>
It is "Speed, and speed faster from this hole of disaster!<br/>
And hurrah for yon God-sent lagoon!"<br/>
Doth a devil deceive them? Ah, now let us leave them—<br/>
We are burdened in life with the sad;<br/>
Our portion is trouble, our joy is a bubble,<br/>
And the gladdest is never too glad.<br/>
<br/>
From the pale tracts of peril, past mountain heads sterile,<br/>
To a sweet river shadowed with reeds,<br/>
Where Summer steps lightly, and Winter beams brightly,<br/>
The hoof-rutted cattle track leads.<br/>
There soft is the moonlight, and tender the noon-light;<br/>
There fiery things falter and fall;<br/>
And there may be seen, now, the gold and the green, now,<br/>
And the wings of a peace over all.<br/>
<br/>
Hush, bittern and plover! Go, wind, to thy cover<br/>
Away by the snow-smitten Pole!<br/>
The rotten leaf falleth, the forest rain calleth;<br/>
And what is the end of the whole?<br/>
Some men are successful after seasons distressful<br/>
[Now, masters, the drift of my tale];<br/>
But the brink of salvation is a lair of damnation<br/>
For others who struggle, yet fail.<br/></p>
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