My flowers will never come to fruit, but I have kept my pride –
A little, cold, and lonely thing, and I have naught beside.
The spring-wind caught my flowering dreams, they lightly blew away.
I never had but one true love, and he died yesterday.
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From my window I can see,
One far glimpse of open sea.Just a slender slipCurving like a crescent moon—Yet a greater prizeThan the harbour garden-fairSpread beneath my eyes.Just below me swings the bay,Sings a sunny tune,But my heart is far awayOut beyond the dune;Clearer far the sea-gulls’ cryAnd the breakers’ roar,Than the little waves beneathLapping on the shore.For that strip of…
Since it befell, with work and strife
I turned away from it untilWork should be done and strife be still.My hands and head for use are free,Nor does my own life worry me,But docile as a spaniel waitsUntil this present stress abates.Tranquil it breathes, and waits, I know,With all its joy contained. But ohI hope when I have time to playMy life…
Over the crest of the Hill of Sleep,
Into a country of wondrous things,Enter we dreaming, and know we’re kings.Murmur or roar as it may, the streamLaughs to the youngster who dreams his dream.Leave him alone till his fool’s heart breaks:Dreams all are real till the dreamer wakes!
The lovely things that I have watched unthinking,
That their soft dyes have steeped my soul in colourThat will not pass away –Great saffron sunset clouds, and larkspur mountains,And fenceless miles of plain,And hillsides golden-green in that unearthlyClear shining after rain;And nights of blue and pearl, and long smooth beaches,Yellow as sunburnt wheat,Edged with a line of foam that creams and hisses,Enticing weary…
At the dawning of the day,
When the sky is pink and greyAs the wings of a wild galah,And the last night-shadow ebbsFrom the trees like a falling tide,And the dew-hung spiderwebsOn the grass-blades spread far and wide –Each sharp spike loaded well,Bent down low with the heavy dew –Wait the daily miracleWhen the world is all made anew:When the sun’s…
Australia’s Men
THERE are some that go for love of a fightAnd some for love of a land,And some for a dream of the world set freeWhich they barely understand.A drearn of the world set free from Hate–But splendidly, one and all,Danger they drink as ’twere wine of LifeAnd jest as they reel and fall.Clean aims, rare…