Cirrus@Austlit

Epigraph: Songs of my leisure hours, Songs of my solemn days; Sung when the dark sky low'rs And in the sun's bright rays. Songs that may go for nought, Save to a kindred soul; From such is favour sought; To such my goal!

'We are pent, Who sing to-day, by all the garnered wealth Of ages of past song. We have no more The world to choose from, who, whene'er we turn, Tread through old thoughts and fair. Yet must we sing.' Lewis Morris, The Epic of Hades.

Dedication: To my father who first taught me to love literature, with an infinitude of affection and admiration.

Author's note: The following verses-songs of youth-are some of the product of my leisure hours, snatched from the engrossing employment of legal studies, and now printed as an earnest of future effort. I have purposely selected, as my maiden attempt, those only of my pieces which refer, either totally or in some measure, to my native land, to which I owe so much, for which I have a supreme affection, and of which I trust I may prove a not unworthy son.....H. Peden Steel, Lewington House, St. Leonards E., Sydney.