In the first week of August with Spring ever near
To the Pacific Lands of the southern hemisphere,
The often brown paddocks now looking more green
And the year’s first wildflowers on the high ground are seen
And the southern Winter is growing very old
And the mornings are chilly without being cold
And the early nesting birds they whistle and sing
They will have nestlings by the first week of Spring
And the dark winged welcome swallows they sing as they fly
Above the higher ground in the clear sunny sky
And the Goddess of Spring draws nearer by the day
To the Southern Land she is now on her way.