Beauty imposes reverence in the Spring,
Grave as the urge within the honeybuds,
It wounds us as we sing.
O HEART of Spring!
Spirit of light and love and joyous day,
So soon to faint beneath the fiery Summer:
Still smiles the Earth, eager for thee alway:
The young girl stood beside me.
I Saw not what her young eyes could see:
- A light, she said, not of the sky
Lives somewhere in the Orange Tree.
QUIETLY as rosebuds
Talk to thin air,
Love came so lightly
I knew not he was there.
Oh 'twas a poor country, in Autumn it was bare,
The only green was the cutting grass and the sheep found little there.
Oh, the thin wheat and the brown oats were never two foot high,
But down in the poor country no pauper was I.
HAVE you ever been down to my countree
Where the trees are green and tall?
The days are long and the heavens are high,
But the people there are small.
He has the full moon on his breast,
The moonbeams are about hs wing;
He has the colours of a king.
I see him floating unto rest
YOUR voice was the rugged
old voice that I knew;
I gave the best grip of
my greeting to you.
A certain old maid at Port Victor
had many strange pets to afflict her,
her Kangaroos fought
with the emu's she caught