When you arrive at Sydney, sailing up
The harbour, a small central isle you'll see;
With two or three low huts, but not a tree,
Nor blade of grass,-upon't; and, on the top,
A score of men, in coarse habiliments,
Hewing the rock away. You may remember,
Among the many evil-traced events
Of a town life, some robbery, when December
Brought on the long, dark nights-a neighbour's boy
Tried for't, and banished. He, perchance, is one,
Who yonder lift the pickaxe in the sun
To level Pinchgut Island! If e'er joy
Gladden'd your heart on England's shore, oh! Never
Forget that Englishmen are banished here for ever.
beautiful description of a city with its surrounding- enjoyable
A beautiful poem having haunting expressing is well delineated. Full stars.
A wonderful poem. Vivid portrayal of a certain period embellished with great images.
Congratulations being chosen as The Classic Poem Of The Day to the famikly of the late Australian poet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
1) a sonnet from an outdated period, can you imagine what Sydney must have looked like? That's what poets are for, holding a period of time for the next generation. Now we have been able to enjoy this Sonnet. And what a life this poet has had.