Henry Lawson Mountains Poems

’Tis a wonderful time when these hours begin,
These long ‘small hours’ of night,
When grass is crisp, and the air is thin,
And the stars come close and bright.
...

Above the ashes straight and tall,
Through ferns with moisture dripping,
I climb beneath the sandstone wall,
...

The Valley's full of misty cloud,
Its tinted beauty drowning,
The Eucalypti roar aloud,
...