The poet sows his goodly seed
Along the tracts of wrong;
And clasps around each kingly deed
The trappings of his song.
Fresh tidings of old truths he spreads
From jaded clime to clime.
The ceaseless spinning of the threads
That weave the wool of Time
Is heard on that colossal height
On which he sits alone,
Unfolded by the blinding light
That streams from the Unknown.
First published in The Queenslander, 12 September 1896
Along the tracts of wrong;
And clasps around each kingly deed
The trappings of his song.
Fresh tidings of old truths he spreads
From jaded clime to clime.
The ceaseless spinning of the threads
That weave the wool of Time
Is heard on that colossal height
On which he sits alone,
Unfolded by the blinding light
That streams from the Unknown.
First published in The Queenslander, 12 September 1896
