An explorer is an
explorer from love, and it is nature, not art, that makes him so.
The history of Australian exploration, though not yet quite complete,
is now so far advanced towards its end, that only minor details now
are wanting, to fill the volume up; and though I shall not attempt to
rank myself amongst the first or greatest, yet I think I have reason
to call myself, the last of the Australian explorers.
As a last remark, I may say the following lines may convey some of my
real feelings towards: -
AUSTRALIA.
What though no hist'ries old,
Rest o'er that land of gold;
And though no bard has told
Tales, of her clime:
What though no tow'r display,
Man's work of other days;
And, though her sun's bright rays
In the old time;
Gleam'd on no mighty fanes,
Built by the toiling pains
Of slaves, in galling chains,
In the earth's prime.
Hers is a new bright land;
By God's divine command,
Where each industr'us hand,
Willing to toil;
What though no song records,
Deeds of her martial hordes,
Who made, with conquering swords,
Heroes sublime.
