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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #61762 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/61762)
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-Project Gutenberg's The Bush Fire, by Ida Lee
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license
-
-
-Title: The Bush Fire
-       And Other Verses
-
-Author: Ida (Ida Louisa) Lee
-
-Release Date: April 5, 2020 [EBook #61762]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BUSH FIRE ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Chuck Greif, MFR and the Online Distributed
-Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
-produced from images generously made available by The
-Internet Archive)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-                             THE BUSH FIRE
-
-                          _AND OTHER VERSES_
-
-
-
-
-                             THE BUSH FIRE
-
-                          _AND OTHER VERSES_
-
-                                  BY
-
-                                IDA LEE
-
-                           _SECOND EDITION_
-
-                                LONDON
-                    SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON & COMPANY
-                               _Limited_
-                          St. Dunstan’s House
-                    FETTER LANE, FLEET STREET, E.C.
-                                 1897
-
-
-                                LONDON:
-                PRINTED BY GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, I.D.,
-               ST. JOHN’S HOUSE, CLERKENWELL ROAD, E.C.
-
-
-                                 TO MY
-
-                           FATHER AND MOTHER
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS.
-
-
-                                                                    PAGE
-
-THE BUSH FIRE                                                          1
-
-BILL, THE GROOM                                                        4
-
-WHITE SEA HORSES                                                      10
-
-SUFFOLK                                                               13
-
-THE FISH-GIRL’S SONG                                                  18
-
-PHANTOMS OF THE SEA                                                   20
-
-THE WATER FROG                                                        23
-
-THE FOREST KING’S LAMENT                                              25
-
-THE DROVER’S VISION                                                   30
-
-THE HOMESTEAD                                                         34
-
-THE BUSHMAN’S WOOING                                                  44
-
-THE VIOLET’S MESSAGE                                                  49
-
-TO A FAR DISTANT FRIEND                                               52
-
-THE PROMISE                                                           54
-
-WHERE LILIES GROW                                                     57
-
-NATURE’S LESSONS                                                      59
-
-
-
-
-          THE BUSH FIRE.
-
-
-STOCKMAN (_Loq._).
-
-    Wake up, boy! the grass is burning;
-    See the glare across the hill!
-    Flames are nearing the “Flat Paddock,”
-    And the sheep are in there still.
-    Dark you say! Yes, so I think it,
-    Tho’ I see the field of corn;
-    But the lights which flicker thro’ it
-    Are not those we see at dawn.
-    Mount the Arab! Take wet sacking!
-    Wet it must be, mind, not dry;
-    We must save the master’s cattle,
-    If we perish while we try.
-
-    Ride on faster, you are younger,
-    Tie your horse to yonder tree,
-    Break some overhanging branches
-    One for you and one for me.
-    Face the fire and do not shirk it,
-    Never mind the smoke and heat;
-    Do not heed the dead wood cracking,
-    Or the sparks beneath your feet.
-    Beat and blind them, crush and kill them,
-    Till their blackened embers lie
-    Stark in ashes, and around you,
-    One by one in darkness die.
-
-    See the blaze is growing greater,
-    Now it runs with many a leap
-    To where stand the tall white gum trees,
-    In whose limbs the parrots sleep,--
-    Throws its fiery arms around them;
-    Every bird in terror flies
-    From its home in grief forsaken,
-    Shrieking harsh unearthly cries.
-    Will the wind not turn to Westward,
-    Or those great black clouds drop rain?
-    There was thunder! no, I doubt it,
-    But do listen once again.
-
-    Now I hear the poor sheep bleating,
-    How they gaze from out the gloom,
-    Like the stake-bound men we read of
-    Who have died the martyr’s doom.
-    Just this moment they were rushing
-    Thro’ the scrub down to the plain,
-    Parch’d and weary. Now returning,
-    They seek refuge here again.
-
-     *       *       *       *       *
-
-    It was thunder! It is raining,
-    For the cinders, hot and red,
-    Hiss, as cool drops fall upon them
-    Through the branches overhead.
-
-    Sweetly blows the yellow wattle
-    ’Cross the road and up the lane,
-    But to me the scent is sweetest
-    Of the damp and moist’ning rain.
-    How it plays upon the firewood,
-    With a pattering ceaseless sound,
-    Like some grand and glorious music
-    Sent to soothe the saddened ground.
-    Take my arm, boy! I feel blinded!
-    ’Tis with joy from such a sight.
-    Lead me home. I will thank God there
-    For His love to me to-night.
-
-_“The Bush Fire” appeared in “The Sydney Mail” (Christmas Number),
-December 19th, 1896._
-
-
-
-
-          BILL, THE GROOM.
-
-
-    The lights burn in the stable, and I stand in the yard,
-    Yet thro’ the open window I hear him breathing hard;
-    They watch the bed in silence where Bill the groom lies still,
-    For Bill the groom is surely fast going down the hill.
-    ’Twas only yestereven, he made a solemn vow
-    To catch and ride the chestnut; she stands outside there now,
-    While he lies crushed and helpless upon a bed of pain;
-    He will not see the sunset behind “The Ridge” again.
-    The chestnut’s free and easy, a trifle too thin-skinned,
-    I know she isn’t faultless, though sound in limb and wind;
-    But I thought she’d give no trouble, for Bill said he could ride,--
-    Australian-born he was not, he came from t’other side.
-    The young ones like to tell us the way they do things there,
-    And tho’ I always listen (you know that’s only fair),
-    I wonder what would happen on those great spread-out plains,
-    If when I rode “The Nigger,” I let hang loose his reins.
-
-    When Bill first said he’d ride her, I think I did say “no,”
-    We told him all about her, the way that she would go,
-    That she had bucked and thrown us whene’er she’d got the chance.
-    Bill leaped the fence and caught her, she led him such a dance!
-    He put the saddle on her, it was not nearly tight,
-    I ran across and fixed it,--and he rode out of sight.
-    The hay-shed hid them from me, I watched them ’long the fence,
-    The mare then walked so quietly, I thought she’d learnt some sense;
-    I know he’d got his stirrups, and held the reins quite straight,
-    And sat his saddle firmly as he went out the gate.
-    I went and fed his horses, and forked their straw all round,
-    Then something seemed to whisper that Bill was on the ground;
-    I thought I heard him calling, but when I raised his head
-    His face was white and fainting, he looked to me quite dead.
-    I don’t know how it happened; but there! my eyes grow dim,
-    I helped him mount the chestnut,--and she dealt his death to him.
-
-    We brought him in and laid him upon his bed to rest,
-    And night and day we’ve waited, just hoping for the best,
-    And done our utmost for him--the family are away,--
-    The doctor says he cannot see out another day;
-    Tho’ living’s mostly trouble, my life I’m sure I’d give,
-    If I could bring back yesterday, and let poor Billy live.
-    He’s waking now, they tell me, but not for long, poor lad,
-    If he but had his mother, ’twould make his end less sad.
-
-    For years they have been parted, yet strange enough it seems,
-    Last night she came in spirit to calm his troubled dreams.
-    They say she is in England, across the ocean blue:
-    I know she here was watching her boy the long night through.
-    Don’t say it all was fancy! I’m not a bushman raw;
-    Bill saw her when she entered, first in the open door,
-    He followed every footstep until she reached his bed,
-    And caught her hand and held it, as she stroked his tired head.
-    And when she rose to leave us, the light, a narrow streak,
-    Crept underneath the windows, and tears stole down her cheek;
-    Her face was drooping lowly, it looked so pained and sad,
-    As once her glances rested upon the sleeping lad.
-
-           *       *       *       *       *
-
-    He asks about his horses, and wants to bid good-bye
-    To “Colonel” and to “Captain,” to “Mill” and “Marjorie,”
-    And even to the chestnut! he says it was his fault,
-    She only bucked just once or twice, and when she seemed to halt,
-    He pulled against the bridle, then up she reared in air
-    And fell right over on him--he lay beneath her there.
-    Come, wheel his bed among them and turn them in their stalls,
-    ’Tis hard if he can’t see them before his strength quite falls.
-
-    They seem to know he’s going--they lick his outstretched hand,
-    And as he speaks they whinny, the sight is really grand!
-    But when he sees the chestnut (for in the door she stood),
-    I never thought a youngster could be one half as good,
-    He pats her, and he pets her, and strokes her bright red mane;
-    The beast I’m sure is sorry she’s caused him all this pain
-    (I do believe I’m crying, tho’ Bill wears such a smile,
-    He hardly could be wicked with a face so free from guile).
-
-    And there, among the horses, he said he heard a call,
-    Tho’ everyone kept silent and solemn thro’ it all.
-    His voice once broke the stillness, “That’s not the stable bell?
-    The angels call me, mother!”--I caught him as he fell;
-    We did not try to raise him; I saw it was no use;
-    The horses they were standing, with halters swinging loose,
-    To watch our every movement: we took his bed inside,
-    And now I know they’re grieving because poor Bill has died.
-
-
-
-
-          WHITE SEA HORSES.
-
-
-    Glad sea horses! Sad sea horses!
-      Rear the head, and toss the mane,
-    Spread out wide in bands together.
-      Face the boundless deep again!
-    Grand white horses! Stand, white horses!
-      Just one moment calm and still,
-    In the bright and sparkling sunshine!
-      None would dream your wrath would kill.
-
-    Great sea horses! Stately horses!
-      When you gallop still be kind:
-    Where is strength to curb your fury,
-      Where are reins your mouths to bind?
-    Urging onward, surging onward,
-      Wild your onset, fierce and free!
-    Proudly rides a ship to battle
-      O’er the line ’twixt sky and sea.
-
-    Wait, white horses! Bait, white horses!
-      While you don those trappings new;
-    Now your noble chests are wrapt in
-      Sumptuous folds of green-fringed blue.
-    Tall white horses! Small white horses!
-      Can it be in peace or war,
-    Thus you madly race the ocean
-      Till you reach the sand-strewn bar?
-
-    Champing horses! Ramping horses!
-      Mid the roaring, mid the noise,
-    Ere your fetlocks churn the billows,
-      Proudly they uplifted poise.
-    Darting horses! Parting horses!
-      They have broken loose away,
-    Flinging far behind their traces,
-      As they plunge among the spray!
-
-    Racing horses! Pacing horses!
-      When you speed with foam-shod feet,
-    Does, unseen, some ghost or spirit
-      Prick your flanks with spurrings fleet?
-    Vain sea horses! Strain, sea horses,
-      With the sinews you possess,
-    Dashing high, above the waters,
-      Heads which never knew distress!
-
-    Fighting horses! Biting horses!
-      Open mouths and nostrils wide,
-    Arching necks and tangled forelocks,
-      Snapping jaws on either side.
-    Fierce wild horses! Pierce wild horses!
-      As the ship doth glide along,
-    They have struck athwart the bulwarks
-      Blow on blow, dealt loud and strong.
-
-    Mad white horses! Bad white horses!
-      Has the vessel spoilt your chase?
-    How you turn aside to lash it,
-      In a passionate embrace!
-    Splashing horses! Crashing horses!
-      Soon you frolic left and right,
-    Angels guard storm-beaten sailors
-      Who encounter you to-night!
-
-
-
-
-          SUFFOLK.
-
-
-        AN EVENING IN AUTUMN.
-
-    Gray shadows speed the fading day,
-    And creeping mists assert their sway;
-    They rise arrayed in varied hue,
-    From sober black to faintest blue,
-    As smoke mounts o’er a slumbering fire,
-    Or lingers round some funeral pyre.
-    Across the fields and in the wood,
-    Where pheasant nestles o’er her brood,
-    No sound is heard; the lifeless trees
-    Scarce move their branches in the breeze,
-    And fallen leaves lie curled and damp
-    Where glow-worm shows his tiny lamp.
-    Soon too with day the shadowed light
-    Will folded sleep, in arms of night.
-    Upon the marsh and up the hill
-    Wild rabbits scamper with a will.
-    The crimson sun so warm and red
-    Now sunken lies, in regal bed,
-    And tinted clouds float gently by,
-    Like rose-leaves o’er a painted sky.
-    The bending river wends its way,
-    Through meadows green where oxen stray;
-    It stretches out its lengthy arm,
-    Which twists and turns past heath and farm.
-    Here, wild fowl often make their nest,
-    And plover, too, with golden crest,
-    From off its banks will fly or run
-    Amid the reeds at setting sun.
-    The village wrapt in sweet content
-    Reviews, ere night, the day well spent;
-    And cotters lean without their door
-    To talk with friends the season o’er.
-    Beyond the sward, smooth lies the beach
-    Whence mighty waters onward reach,
-    And to the shore still rippling send
-    Sweet murmurings that do not end.
-    So softly do the wavelets move,
-    They seem to breathe but words of love
-    As if they feared or trembled, lest
-    They hurt one shell upon its breast;
-    Or cast one pebble on the sand,
-    Lest it should know their strength of hand.
-    Thus fades the day before my sight
-    While nature waits the coming night.
-
-
-          MORNING.
-
-    Dark broke the daylight, cold and gray,
-    And sea-birds flecked the foaming spray,
-    Above the deep. The waves now dashed,
-    And rolling huge, so heavily lashed
-    Their watery fleece against the strand.
-    But yesterday, with loving hand,
-    They laved its face with warm caress,
-    And softly on its cheek did press.
-    The glowing sun, which blessed that day,
-    Now frowning clouds hid far away.
-    No tinted rays could burst the veil,
-    Which falling thick in showers of hail,
-    And stinging sleet, that blew so fierce,
-    The smallest floweret seemed to pierce;
-    And tossed aside the golden sheaf,
-    Or cut like steel each tiny leaf.
-    The breeze arose, but not to jest,
-    Or soothe those fears which breathe unrest;
-    It sprang up strong--not lightly gay--
-    Nor deigned with one rose-leaf to play;
-    But rushing madly to the wood,
-    Uprooted trees as there they stood,
-    Then threw them down among the gorse,
-    And crushed the ferns with cruel force.
-    When, whistling by the sea-girt dale,
-    It caused the fisherwife to pale;
-    And made the worn-out rafters quake,
-    The sleepers suddenly awake.
-    The busy smacksmen set their sail,
-    And trim their boats to ride the gale;
-    While aged seamen creep in sight
-    To glean the dangers of the night.
-    They long to join the gallant band,
-    Though wan of face and weak of hand,
-    And gaze upon the angry sea,
-    Which stirs the fading memory
-    To bring some peril past to each,
-    A lesson new, their age to teach,
-    When walking back to humble cot,
-    Each ache and ailment is forgot.
-    And in their homes the threadbare tale
-    Of wreck and rescue will not fail
-    The hours to enliven thro’ the day,
-    And chase aside the shadows gray,
-    Which, round their lives’ uncertain sea,
-    Now deepen where the warnings be
-    Of one last voyage which must be made
-    Ere sailings be for ever stayed.
-
-
-          NOON.
-
-    At noon’s sweet hour came peace once more,
-    Wide open Nature laid her store
-    Of fragrant flowers--the birds sang gay,
-    To blot the sins of dawn away.
-    The sea herself, though foaming still,
-    Acknowledged then a stronger will,
-    Altho’ at night the mourner’s tear
-    Fell thick and fast. Yet ever here
-    Tears dew the sorrow-stricken eyes,
-    While grief sits by to foster sighs.
-    Men only learn in Heaven above
-    The wisdom of our Father’s love.
-
-
-
-
-          THE FISH-GIRL’S SONG.
-
-
-        Clang! Clang! Clang!
-      I set my basket down;
-    The bells hang high in the belfry tower,
-    And tell the folk ’tis the evening hour,
-      Through in and out the town.
-
-        Clang! Clang! Clang!
-      O hush my wooden shoon!
-    When gently I swing the sacred door,
-    And kneel me down on the marble floor
-      To beg a heavenly boon.
-
-        Clang! Clang! Clang!
-      Be silent, wooden shoon;
-    And cease your noise while I say my prayers,
-    When vespers soar through the winding stairs,
-      Up to the lonely moon.
-
-        Clang! Clang! Clang!
-      Good things all end too soon;
-    I bow the knee as I say good-bye,
-    To holy place, with its spire on high:
-      Such restless wooden shoon!
-
-        Clang! Clang! Clang!
-      Work, morning, night and noon;
-    For daily bread, and for nightly rest!
-    My heart is cheered and my soul is blest,
-      Ring out, O wooden shoon!
-
-
-
-
-          PHANTOMS OF THE SEA.
-
-
-    Black phantoms gather o’er the sea,
-    And move in groups mysteriously;
-    With shears in hand they watching wait.
-    The night grows old; the hour is late;
-    The ocean foams with angry glee,
-    Its waters roll tempestuously,
-    And dash the white salt-spangled spray
-    Against the rocks, in rudest play.
-
-    The glimmering light around, below,
-    A sad wan face there fain would show;
-    But darkness claims the night’s last hour,
-    Enchaining it with mystic power.
-    In rugged outlines where they stand,
-    Tall, spectral cliffs shut out the land,
-    And shelter lend those forms who creep
-    On evil wings above the deep.
-
-    All noiselessly, with one consent,
-    Their work but on one object bent,
-    They carry out a sovereign will,
-    And never rest, and ne’er are still.
-    They look like beings who frequent
-    A nether world--their time is spent
-    In weaving sorrow, grief, and pain
-    For those who sail the boundless main.
-
-    Quite unaware, from out the night,
-    A ship glides forth so tall and white
-    Amid the darkness. Straightway she
-    Steers headlong to Eternity.
-    The vessel bears across the deep
-    A freight, who all unconscious sleep.
-    Gray gloom hath topped each frowning height
-    Which rising phantoms hide from sight;
-    With outstretched hands in air they loom,
-    The ship to beckon to its doom.
-    But no, not yet; ’tis not to be;
-    Thou’rt cheated! Look, thou angry sea!
-    Above the heights, there doth appear
-    A form, upholding high a spear
-    Of sparkling light! It is the morn!
-    The night is dead! The day is born!
-    “Begone!” she cries, her hand she rears;
-    “Bend low your heads, let fall your shears!
-    Away, you evil-meaning bands!
-    Aye! Hide your faces in your hands.
-    Together link yourselves and flee,
-    And leave the brave in peace with me.”
-
-    The ship is stayed. The helm they turn,
-    While sailors’ hearts within them burn
-    To see the rocks, the seething foam,
-    The whirlpool eddying round its home,
-    And giant cliffs so near at hand.
-    A treacherous path those spirits planned,
-    To lead them onward to their doom.
-    There soon they must have found a tomb,
-    Had not the morning’s early light
-    Reclaimed them from the clutch of night.
-
-
-
-
-          THE WATER FROG.
-
-
-    I wander far by bank and stream,
-      Then paddle back thro’ wave and foam,
-    Cross pebble stones, where waters leap;
-      A froth-clad doorway hides my home.
-    ’Neath fern leaves’ shade I gently dream,
-      While circling weeds around me throng;
-    The restless waters softly flow,
-      Their babbling sounds like some sweet song.
-
-    When stronger grows the northern breeze,
-      The driven stream with noisy roar,
-    Blown foremost by the boisterous wind,
-      Bursts headlong thro’ my shivered door.
-    A twisted twig I hop or climb,
-      ’Tis maddening pace at times we ride;
-    First, twirling gaily round in air,
-      Then smoothly on the waters glide.
-
-    Great frowning rocks above look down:
-      With scornful glance they watch my glee,
-    Aloud I croak, and broadly smile.
-      What matter if they angry be?
-    Our fleeting life is far too short,
-      Tho’ merry as it well can be;
-    The good, together with the bad,
-      Can sweeten still this world for me.
-
-    And when I reach my cosy home,
-      The bubbling waters shout “Hurrah,”
-    And hurrying onward, tell the tale
-      To other streams both near and far;
-    How I have braved the tempest’s din.
-      And now beneath the lofty pine,
-    While angry thunders make reply,
-      In sweet contentment I recline.
-
-
-
-
-          THE FOREST KING’S LAMENT.
-
-
-    Where linger the people I once called my own?
-    In depths of the forest I stand here alone;
-    Where waits my beloved one, my queen and my bride?
-    ’Twas seldom she wandered thus far from my side.
-    I hear not, I see not the world where they live;
-    No day-dream reveals it, or comfort will give
-    To passionate longing; hope dies in the heart
-    Of man when he dwells from his fellows apart.
-    With weary complaining I question again;
-    ’Mid rivers and mountains I hear a refrain
-    From cliff to the valley seem clearly to ring--
-    “Alone in thy kingdom where once thou wert king!”
-
-    From over wide seas the white chieftains had come
-    To rest in our mountains and claim our dear home;
-    ’Twas morn in the vale when we rose up to fight,
-    ’Twas darker than darkness, that fell ere the night.
-    Our farewells were short, as thro’ thicket we sprang,
-    All armed with sharp spears and the curved boomerang;
-    My people loud shouted their battle-cry old,
-    A quick answer came, by the bullet soon told!
-    I prayed as I fell, “May I speedily die
-    With those who, around me, now silently lie
-    Like reeds in a tempest, struck low by the rain,
-    Who never to life will awaken again!”
-
-    I dragged myself back, yet scarce knew it was day,
-    Or if any escaped from the heat of the fray;
-    No voice there I heard, not a sigh, not a sound,
-    As fainting, I lay on the grass-trodden ground.
-    But morning brought life, and the noonday gave strength,
-    The day slowly passed, and with evening at length
-    (Kind Nature had nourished my famishing frame)
-    I found I could rise, though enfeebled and lame.
-    Though why should I value that newly found breath?
-    For bitter is life to me, sweeter is death,
-    And if I felt sure I should find them at last,
-    With joy would I join those true friends of the past.
-
-    I’ve sought the deep hollows, the gorge, and ravine,
-    From mallee to plain not a creature is seen.
-    White chieftains have journeyed and left me to rest,
-    They scour all the country from east to the west.
-    Alone in my camp, now, when fadeth the day,
-    I sit in the firelight the lizard to flay;
-    Tho’ nights are as fine as were those we could choose
-    To dance the corroboree, feast or carouse
-    Around the bush fire piled with myall and pine,
-    And box, red and white, or the cedar-wood fine!
-    Once danced we the war-dance from dark till the dawn,
-    And stayed not to rest until sunlight was born.
-
-    Warm sunshine still plays among myriad leaves,
-    Where silver-like thread the tarantula weaves;
-    I see thro’ the green the bright web he hath spun,
-    And kingfishers dazzling the light of the sun;
-    From nests in the banks quick they flash in and out.
-    While jackass sits laughing with comical shout
-    ’Mid branches o’erhead, wearing plumage of brown,
-    The river beneath floweth steadily down.
-    Thus murmuring, the ripples bring tears to my eye,
-    They sound like the tones of my loved one’s reply;
-    I turn right away, just to stifle the pain
-    Of knowing she never will hear them again.
-
-    Alone on the marshes the water-hens float,
-    With cresses and rushes surrounding their throat,
-    They pluck at the circles of mud-coloured slime,
-    Which harden and bake in the summer’s sweet time.
-    If water be scarce, or if river run dry,
-    There sandpiper, too, on occasion will hie,
-    And heron or pelican often be seen,
-    Food patiently seeking in silence serene.
-    At times I do wonder if haply they know
-    What power has arisen my sway to o’erthrow?--
-    What memories they stir! When they rise on the wing
-    I dream of the days when I reigned here as king.
-
-    The wattle’s scent mingles with that of the briar,
-    Where tower the white gum trees in noble attire:
-    In days when we hunted the emu abreast,
-    ’Twas under their shade we would lie down and rest,
-    Till curlew at evening poured wail upon wail
-    That circled the forest and crept thro’ the vale,
-    Then, meeting the echoes amid the wide plain,
-    Would rise there and fall there, and circle again.
-    Do yearnings increasing disturb the strong breeze,
-    That moans in the brushwood and grieves in the trees?
-    Its sob overcomes me, no more can I sing,
-    But bend low in anguish where once I stood king!
-
-
-
-
-          THE DROVER’S VISION.
-
-
-    The drover’s camp one evening in hushful calm lay still,
-    Its fitful flickering firelight made bright the western hill;
-    The bronzed and bearded drover had stretched himself to rest,
-    In childlike peaceful slumber, his arms across his breast.
-    His saddle formed a pillow, the thick, coarse grass his bed,
-    While mounting sparks were casting a halo round his head.
-
-    Then sweetest dreams came pouring to charm the weary brain,
-    He saw his mob of cattle outspread upon the plain;
-    But curling whip lay silent, and watchful dog slept sound,
-    As deeper grew the stillness which held its sway around:
-    Thro’ forest paths an angel had sped with hurried haste,
-    The twining leaves he forced apart until he reached the waste.
-
-    Past many growing townships, o’er tracks of sun-dried plain,
-    And rocky hills and rivers, he brought his tale of pain.
-    Long shadows rose to meet him; in groups they gathered round,
-    While trees unbent and listened in reverence o’er the ground,
-    Where hallowed steps had fallen, where an angel late had trod,
-    Whose holy feet with pity, and love, and faith were shod.
-
-    The drover heard those footsteps; he felt an icy breath,
-    And, turning round in greeting, beheld the face of Death,
-    A vision bending o’er him, and holding, gently down,
-    A tiny suffering infant whose life had well-nigh flown.
-    It raised its fragile body, and softly turned to rest
-    Beside him, closely nestling against his massive breast.
-
-    And, as the shadows parted, the small wan features smiled
-    Upon him, oh! so sweetly, and he saw it was his child.
-    A moment more, it left him, and thro’ the dimness fled
-    Back to the Angel vision, with tiny hands outspread.
-    The white-robed arms enfold it, and glances sweet and rare
-    Fall on the stricken drover, who lies in darkness there.
-
-    When morning breaks, the sunshine streams over a moving throng
-    Of cattle pressing onward, while breezes bear along
-    The sound of parrots’ chattering; and sweet toned bell-pbirds sing,
-    Like chimes on a Sabbath morning, their notes through the bushland ring,
-    And tall trees wave their branches athwart the rosy light,
-    Forgetting in their pleasure, the sorrow of the night.
-
-    The drover’s world is darkened, his heart is wrung with pain,
-    As gazing o’er the hill-side where his ash-strewn camp had lain,
-    He thinks of the vanished spirit and heavily droops his head,
-    While sadness sits in his saddle--he knows his child is dead.
-    He prays with fervent pleadings that his babe may stay its flight
-    In God’s own Heavenly Kingdom--His home of love and light.
-
-
-
-
-          THE HOMESTEAD.
-
-
-    There stands the homestead; white amid the trees
-    So lowly set, where stirs a faint warm breeze.
-    Across the sward the thronging cattle pass,
-    Their colours blurred, as, in one moving mass,
-    Loosed from the yard, the panting creatures seek
-    Their restful pastures by the flowing creek.
-    Yet sunlight lingers in the crimson leaves,
-    And, where it touches, softer beauty weaves.
-    It plays around the open entrance-door,
-    And casts its glowing radiance on the floor.
-    See on each drooping flower whose heavy head
-    Bows the tired stalk, the dying sunbeams shed
-    A faded splendour, lending deeper grace
-    To all those colours which their rays embrace.
-    All through the day the busy droning bee
-    Has music made by every flowering tree,
-    And sipped the goodness from the blossom sweet,
-    Which bursting full bloomed in refulgent heat.
-    Now where the shaded corner screens the hive,
-    The laden workers one by one arrive,
-    With merry hum and din, the tiny throng
-    Fill the cool garden with their evensong.
-    Long slanting shadows creep from out the shade,
-    And clouds above accumulate and fade.
-    In one short breath, like foam upon the sea,
-    When rising winds the ocean bubbles free,
-    They shape themselves and vanish into space,
-    And others quickly follow in their place.
-    The heated day departs, yet gentle night,
-    Though venturing nearer, veils her face from sight,
-    Patient awaiting that belovèd hour
-    When like a queen, she rises, full of power,
-    To grasp the fallen sceptre of the day,
-    And calm her subjects, casting care away,
-    While freshening dewdrops cool the fevered land,
-    With gentle touch as of a mother’s hand.
-    The great brown eagle hurries home to rest,
-    Amid the rugged mountains in the west:
-    Where yawning space asserts herself, between
-    The towering cliff, deep gorge and dark ravine,
-    Where ferns and bracken grow, and interlace
-    Their beauteous fronds across the rock’s stern face,
-    He lives a king, within a regal nest
-    The feathered monarch of the lonely west.
-    Above him sombre flocks of ibis fly,
-    On drooping wing, across the tinted sky,
-    And mar the beauty of its golden light
-    By their uneven lines and lengthened flight.
-    Upon the hillside, motionless and calm,
-    Like sentinels who shelter all from harm;
-    The stalwart trees extend their branches white
-    And keep their silent watches through the night.
-
-      Behold, like glistening silver, quickly glide,
-    Yet farther off, the river’s hurrying tide!
-    By sandy shores and widening banks it flows,
-    Till tranquil to the open sky it shows
-    A gleaming face, reflecting dear and true
-    Its answering gaze from out the deepening blue.
-    One spot alone defiles the sand’s white breast,
-    Where some foul crawling snake a track imprest,
-    Recording by the broken mud-stained trail,
-    The linked contortions of its twisting tail.
-    A solitary horse surmounts the steep,
-    Bringing its rider home to well-earned sleep.
-    The threatening troubles which his hand must stay,
-    The heavy toil, the worries of the day,
-    Are all forgotten, as upon the plain
-    He sees his homestead rise to view again.
-    A happy smile lights up his sunburnt face,
-    When on the breeze sweet voices he can trace,
-    Of those he loves who watch for him, and wait
-    To give him welcome at the open gate.
-
-      Upon the giant boulder’s flattened stone,
-    Which bars the stream, in ages that have gone,
-    Where cool soft shade the river oak tree throws,
-    ’Twas there the black man’s spear uplifted rose,
-    And pierced the darting fish with matchless aim,
-    Then stooped his dusky arm his spoil to claim.
-    When summer evening too his world made bright,
-    And bathed the trees and flowers in crimson light,
-    The sunset tingeing red each leaf and bough,
-    And all the bush was beautiful as now,
-    Often he rose and wandered by the bank;
-    Where grew the native thistles tall and rank,
-    With blithesome step, and sure unfaltering tread,
-    He traced a winding road; about his head
-    The trailing creepers from the trees hung low,
-    And snow-white petals brushed his swarthy brow.
-    The hazy sun-spots danced and round him played,
-    While silken cobwebs shimmered through the shade.
-    And here and there the fragrant wattle leant
-    Across his path, as leisurely he went,
-    To where the open plains their limits kept,
-    Above the dense growth which the hillside swept.
-    Fleet would his dogs, with noisy bark, pursue
-    The bustard wild or startled kangaroo.
-    But time has changed! The black man’s race is run:
-    No more at even, when the dying sun
-    Is sinking to its rest, will he be seen
-    In that fair spot: the tufted rushes green
-    May conclaves form upon the wide expanse,
-    Still in the river-bend the fish may glance,
-    And waters chant their rhyming lullaby;
-    But not for him. He never will descry
-    The painted plumage on the parrot’s wing,
-    Nor listen where the woodland echoes ring,
-    With shouts of laughter from that peering bird
-    Who sits, convulsed, in attitude absurd,
-    Amid the leaves which crown the shrunken limb
-    That slanting reaches to the waters’ brim.
-    Advancing Time has turned another page,
-    And gives the land a new, a greater age.
-
-      Already too that young land, having past
-    Her childhood, stands to claim her place at last,
-    Already walks at her great Mother’s side
-    Among the nations in majestic pride,
-    While Britain glances on that comely face
-    Whose every feature bears her stamp of race.
-    She guidance gave her through her infant days,
-    And lit her path with all ungrudging rays.
-    In early years the daughter learnt full well
-    To whom to trust her steps when darkness fell;
-    While knowledge of the help and love she drew
-    From out her Mother’s breast woke fondness true.
-    Yet still the daughter wore a listless air,
-    Dependent, and too young for thought or care,
-    Till came o’er foaming seas a rude alarm,
-    “Foes taunt thy Mother with uplifted arm!”
-    The strength of her great parent she knew well
-    Could all unaided threats and foes repel!
-    But now she starts, stung by the hostile words
-    Of those who stand around with naked swords!
-    Upstirred, the ancient pride within her veins,
-    And courage quick, from caution snatched the reins.
-    She called her sons, the towns, the bushland through;
-    Called them to arms! Australians brave and true!
-    Resentment fierce, which could no longer hold
-    Itself in check, burned wild and uncontrolled,
-    That covert acts a noble queen distrest,
-    Or robbed fair England of her quiet rest.
-    Her sons obey, striplings and men full-grown
-    Prepare for war, and conflicts yet unknown.
-    With fearless mien, and flashing angry eye,
-    Each girds a soldier’s sword upon his thigh.
-    A heightened blush o’erspreads his glowing cheek,
-    Erect he stands, though passing young to speak,
-    While from his brow he sweeps the kiss of sleep,
-    Which lingered there in languid rapture deep,
-    And filled his senses, letting him forget
-    The duty manhood made a sacred debt.
-    Quickly he sends across the billows wild
-    This message to the Mother from her child:
-    “Think not that I can dwell in calm repose
-    While friends around thee waver, and rude foes
-    Goad thee to anger with coarse gibe and leer,
-    And flaunt before thine eyes the lifted spear.
-    From thee I rose: for thee I can but fall!
-    Thy need suffices for my battle-call.”
-    The tones all quickly tell the sword gleams bare
-    Within the youthful hand uplifted there.
-    Her fond smile deepens as the Mother hears
-    Still further comfort which the ocean bears.
-    Her proudest glory is her children’s love,
-    Who with their life-blood loyalty would prove.
-    When thro’ the arid desert’s sandy waste
-    The Royal standard presses in its haste
-    Around the Mother’s flag, the foeman sees
-    Her daughter’s banner floating in the breeze:
-    Those soldier-children in a southern clime
-    Sacred will hold that heritage sublime.
-    Let England’s enemies remember well
-    The fortunes which the elder flag befell
-    On battle-fields, in troubled days of old,
-    Nor think her ancient spirit has waxed cold.
-    The past, the present, and the days to come,
-    Will show how sons of England guard their home!
-
-      Great England! not thy sea-girt shore alone,
-    That stretches round the Queenly Sovereign’s throne,
-    But all the widening sway, and boundless grace,
-    Of those vast countries which a world embrace,
-    Where dwell the sons of Britain. Ill betide
-    Who speaks against their country strong and wide!
-    Throughout the world one patriotic zeal
-    Binds the vast empire, as with links of steel,
-    To that sweet peaceful Isle we call our home.
-    Thither, from mountain top, or crested foam,
-    We turn our thoughts (as flowers turn to the sun),
-    And cherish high what there our fathers won.
-    If far away we watch the sunlight fade,
-    Beyond the range (where in past years, dismayed
-    The tired explorer stood, with weary brow,
-    And gazed across the mallee high and low),
-    We thrust the shadows back, and think the while
-    How men forget their fears to win her smile.
-    What danger will they face if to her name
-    Twill add new lustre, or still wider fame!
-    Or if we stand within the city’s pale
-    Where once rode armoured knights in coated mail,
-    Of those we think beneath its sacred dome,
-    So long since gone, who also called it home!
-    And proud we feel in this brief passing hour,
-    That God with bounteous grace has given us power
-    To call it ours! His strong far-reaching hand
-    Has kept a faithful watch above this land.
-
-      Light has departed! In the western hills
-    Its place around the homestead darkness fills;
-    Save in the windows, whence the smiling lamp
-    Outshines the gloom and cheers the distant camp,
-    Where with their flocks the drovers spend the night
-    In restful slumber until morning light.
-    One stage is finished! stars gleam in the sky
-    As weary heads on pillowing saddles lie.
-    Around the men sweet dreams their cobwebs spin,
-    And soon shut out the day’s unrestful din.
-    All through the air a new-born stillness grows
-    As sleep, around, a mystic thraldom throws:
-    Above, below, her soothing angels spread,
-    On beast, and bird, o’er things alive and dead,
-    Their blissful wings, while voices never cease
-    To chant in silvery tones a song of peace.
-
-
-
-
-          THE BUSHMAN’S WOOING.
-
-
-    “Short grows my leave,” the bushman said,
-      “My love I will avow;
-    When I come back, the maid I’ll wed,
-      If she will hear me now.”
-    So fair this maiden was, and bright,
-      She’d suitors more than one,
-    But when the bushman rode in sight,
-      She met him there alone.
-
-    She heard him speak of golden love,
-      A blessing, deep and true,
-    Such love was theirs, he fain would prove
-      If she would let him woo
-    And claim her there, when work was done.
-      The maiden glanced adown;
-    “Not thus,” she said, “must I be won,”
-      And smoothed her silken gown.
-
-    Then angry spake the man aloud;
-      He saw the hand, so small;
-    While o’er his face there came a cloud,
-      These words his lips let fall,
-    “A stockman may seem rough or rude,
-      Yet all the while be bold,
-    ’Tis not because the quartz is crude,
-      It can’t contain the gold.
-
-    “A bushman’s life is wild and free,--
-      That easy is to read,--
-    Don’t live to learn just what you see,
-      But take the will for deed.
-    Now all this time I know you meant,
-      Not ‘No’ to say, but ‘Yes!’”
-    Then as he spake, the tall man bent
-      His head, her hand to press.
-
-    The maiden would not seem to see,
-      But drew her hand aside,
-    “The man I love must courteous be,
-      Ere I will be his bride.
-    You say the life is rough and wild,
-      You think the man is bold;
-    I still could wish the stone were filed
-      That one might see the gold!
-
-    “To-morrow morn I’ll hear your tale,
-      And then, perhaps, I’ll say
-    A word of comfort if you fail
-      To win my love to-day.
-    My heart is not a paltry toy,
-      Just worn upon the sleeve,
-    To give away to man or boy,
-      Who barely asks my leave.”
-
-    “At morn,” he said, “I take the sheep
-      Beyond the Queensland line;
-    We start before you wake from sleep;
-      Just place your hand on mine,
-    And say, ‘God bless you, Jim, to-night,
-      And bring you safely back;’
-    I then can face the hottest fight
-      Or meet the fiercest black.”
-
-    All anger from his face had fled,
-      His eyes with sweetness shone,
-    The maiden’s cheek went white, then red,
-      She stood as turned to stone.
-    Her lips they moved, as if to say
-      Some words to reach his ear,
-    But minutes pass, and still they stay
-      Pressed close as if with fear.
-
-    One moment more, and then he knelt
-      Low at her feet to ask
-    The blessing sweet, for still he felt
-      ’Twould lighten all his task.
-    Her hand so small was stretched out there,
-      And laid between his own,
-    And while he held it, white and fair,
-      This maiden’s pride had flown.
-
-    He felt her trembling fingers move,
-      Yet low he humbly bent
-    Before her there to prove his love,
-      The while she grew content.
-    And then she spoke, he scarce could hear,
-      Her voice fell soft and sweet,
-    “Twas ‘Yes’ I meant, I cannot bear
-      To see you at my feet.”
-
-
-
-
-          THE VIOLET’S MESSAGE.
-
-
-    All radiant was the garden with choice and precious flowers;
-    Rare blossoms in their “houses” enwove resplendent bowers.
-    They were the rich man’s treasures, he gave them every care,
-    And yet the dew of heaven could never reach them there.
-    They did not feel the raindrops, or sunshine warmly bright,
-    Nor winced beneath the dangers of a cold and frosty night.
-    For all were closely tended and spared from every ill,
-    A gardener’s hand had planted each flower with dainty skill.
-
-    Now outside in the meadow, a modest violet grew,
-    And no one ever watched it, for no one ever knew;
-    Still there it lived and flourished, and scent of flowerets small
-    Was carried by the breezes across the high stone wall.
-    It reached the great man’s window, was wafted thro’ the door,
-    And made the air seem fresher than ever it was before.
-    It reached the great man’s heart, too, and whispered in his ear,
-    To tell a loving message, in accents sweet and clear.
-
-    He saw once more his birthplace and childhood’s happy years;
-    ’Tis not a vision only, the brain both sees and hears.
-    There stands the old white cottage, long vanished from his sight,
-    He feels the cool wind blowing across the fields at night.
-    In waters of the streamlet that graced the woodland scene,
-    He seemed to see reflected the man he might have been.
-    He sighed, “O gentle violet, so tender and so true!
-    Of all my rich collection, not one compares with you.
-    Your coming here has taught me, how I may walk each day,
-    The paths where you are lovely in your sweet simple way.”
-
-
-
-
-      TO A FAR DISTANT FRIEND.
-
-
-      Eyes that are true,
-      Shadowed with blue,
-    Speak her sweet mind:
-      Out of her face,
-      Calm in its grace,
-    Looks the spirit behind.
-
-      Swift ocean tide,
-      Steep mountain side,
-    Stand now between:
-      Yet will my heart,
-      Sacred, apart,
-    Treasure days that have been.
-
-      No sunlight plays
-      With the same rays
-    On her and me:
-      Time’s shortening wing
-      Troubles may bring,
-    Clouding Life’s restless sea.
-
-      Still I will pray
-      Her heavenward way
-    Thrice may be blest;
-      Angels to guide,
-      Walk by her side,
-    Love her ever the best.
-
-
-
-
-          THE PROMISE.
-
-
-    Where are the angel-fingers
-      That traced the road I trod,
-    And pointed out so clearly
-      The heavenly way to God?
-
-    Where are the noble faces,
-      The eyes, quick flashing light,
-    That warned me there was danger
-      Before it came in sight?
-
-    Where are the cheerful voices
-      I knew in days of youth?
-    Through every tone came ringing
-      A thrill of earnest truth.
-
-    Why did they tire and vanish,
-      And leave me here alone,
-    To stumble on a pathway
-      Beset with jagged stone?
-
-    I hear no sound to bless me,
-      I see no hand to guide
-    My feet o’er thorny places,
-      Or point where ways divide,
-
-    Though every sign-post tells me,
-      That I have gone astray,
-    And arms for ever beckon,
-      Yet, further lengths away.
-
-    My heart grows hot and weary,
-      My soul is filled with care,
-    And thoughts around me thronging,
-      Have quenched all wish for prayer.
-
-    I wail in keenest anguish,
-      Must I sink beneath the sod,
-    On earth, not find my Father,
-      In death, not reach my God?
-
-    The clouds above me open,
-      And a glorious ray of light
-    Comes streaming out of darkness,
-      A voice speaks thro’ the night,
-
-    “You have a faithful promise,
-      Escape for you is near,
-    When grows the tempter’s presence
-      Too great for you to bear.
-
-    “Arise and journey onward:
-      A two-edged, flaming sword
-    Directs you to your Saviour,
-      Through His Almighty Word.”
-
-
-
-
-          WHERE LILIES GROW.
-
-
-          Where lilies grow;
-    The dewdrops linger on the flowers,
-    The birds’ sweet singing chimes the hours,
-    I love to sit there listening,
-    And watch the fish there glistening.
-    They glance and dart both in and out,
-    And turn themselves all round about,
-          Where lilies grow.
-
-          Where lilies grow;
-    A pace or two the violets sweet
-    Spread like a carpet ’neath my feet;
-    The rushes tall in clusters stand;
-    I reach and touch them with my hand;
-    And yellow kingcups there unfold,
-    They circle like a band of gold
-          Where lilies grow.
-
-         Where lilies grow;
-    So calm, so still it is, and deep,
-    Around the edge green fringes peep,
-    Just up above the trailing weeds
-    Entwining, spread among the reeds,
-    Then hang them down along the pool,
-    Which lies beneath so calm and cool,
-          Where lilies grow.
-
-
-
-
-          NATURE’S LESSONS.
-
-
-    Tell me whether you have ridden
-      Gallant steed a lengthy mile!
-    As he galloped, in your saddle
-      Could you sit and calmly smile,
-    For you hardly felt the motion,
-      Tho’ his feet fell firm and strong,
-    Sending sparks in feathery flashes
-      From the flint-strewn road along?
-
-    Then did forests flit and vanish,
-      Lofty trees like spectres pass?
-    Looked the mountain in the distance
-      Like some wavering shapeless mass?
-    Could you only see distinctly
-      Fine-cut ears and flowing mane,
-    While your fingers felt the snaffle
-      Pulling doubly on the rein?
-
-    Have you ever watched the river,
-      Bounding onward to the sea,
-    Have you heard the restless throbbing
-      Of the waters’ joyous glee,
-    From the upland to the valley
-      Still so bravely battling on,
-    Turning not for gain, or pleasure,
-      Till its goal is safely won?
-
-    Have you seen the kingly eagle,
-      Rising, leave his nest on high,
-    Wings outstretched, eyes glancing sunward,
-      As he cleaves the azure sky?
-    Quite as glorious as the river
-      (For one hand has made the two),
-    Reared and dwelling near the heavens,
-      Linking those blue heights with you.
-
-    When we sail across the ocean,
-      Far from sight or reach of land,
-    Feel we then the vessel fighting
-      White sea-horses in a band?
-    Fierce and wild they turn and double,
-      Waves of water wildly moan.
-    Joining there they lash the bulwarks
-      Till the ship will creak and groan.
-
-    Tho’ the joy lay yet unconscious,
-      Time in after days will bring,
-    Out of all such scenes, a token,
-      Breathing of some better thing.
-    Our tired senses will awaken
-      From their slumberings, fresh and strong,
-    While a holier spirit bids us,
-      Love the right, and hate the wrong.
-
-    ’Tis not thought of fame or fortune
-      That rebounds within the mind,
-    Stifling every earthly passion,
-      Opening eyes which long were blind.
-    There, revealed, lie noble secrets,
-      What is greatest, noblest, best,
-    In our natures, then uprising,
-      Make such scenes for ever blest.
-
-
-                THE END.
-
-      [Illustration: text decoration]
-
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Bush Fire, by 
-Ida, (Ida Louisa), (1865-1943) Lee
-
-*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BUSH FIRE ***
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-<pre>
-
-Project Gutenberg's The Bush Fire, by Ida (Ida Louisa) Lee
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license
-
-
-Title: The Bush Fire
-       And Other Verses
-
-Author: Ida (Ida Louisa) Lee
-
-Release Date: April 5, 2020 [EBook #61762]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BUSH FIRE ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Chuck Greif, MFR and the Online Distributed
-Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
-produced from images generously made available by The
-Internet Archive)
-
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-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-<hr class="full" />
-
-<p class="c">
-<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="331" height="500" alt="" />
-</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_i" id="page_i">{i}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<p class="cb">T H E &nbsp; B U S H &nbsp; F I R E<br /><br />
-<i>AND OTHER VERSES</i></p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_ii" id="page_ii">{ii}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_iii" id="page_iii">{iii}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<h1>THE BUSH FIRE</h1>
-
-<p class="c"><i>AND OTHER VERSES</i><br />
-<br />
-BY<br />
-<br />
-IDA LEE<br />
-<br /><br />
-<i>SECOND EDITION</i><br />
-<br /><br />
-LONDON<br />
-SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON &amp; COMPANY<br /><br />
-<i>Limited</i><br /><span class="eng"><br />
-St. Dunstan’s House</span><br /><br />
-<span class="smcap">Fetter Lane, Fleet Street, E.C.</span><br /><br />
-1897<br />
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_iv" id="page_iv">{iv}</a></span><br />
-<br /><small>
-LONDON:<br />
-PRINTED BY GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, I.D.,<br />
-ST. JOHN’S HOUSE, CLERKENWELL ROAD, E.C.<br /></small>
-<br /><br /><br />
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_v" id="page_v">{v}</a></span><br />
-<br />
-TO MY<br />
-<br />
-FATHER AND MOTHER<br />
-</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_vii" id="page_vii">{vii}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_vi" id="page_vi">{vi}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2>
-
-<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
-
-<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td><small>PAGE</small></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_BUSH_FIRE">The Bush Fire</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_1">1</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#BILL_THE_GROOM">Bill, the Groom</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_4">4</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#WHITE_SEA_HORSES">White Sea Horses</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_10">10</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#SUFFOLK">Suffolk</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_13">13</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_FISH-GIRLS_SONG">The Fish-Girl’s Song</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_18">18</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#PHANTOMS_OF_THE_SEA">Phantoms of the Sea</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_20">20</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_WATER_FROG">The Water Frog</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_23">23</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_FOREST_KINGS_LAMENT">The Forest King’s Lament</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_25">25</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_DROVERS_VISION">The Drover’s Vision</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_30">30</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_HOMESTEAD">The Homestead</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_34">34</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_viii" id="page_viii">{viii}</a></span><a href="#THE_BUSHMANS_WOOING">The Bushman’s Wooing</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_44">44</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_VIOLETS_MESSAGE">The Violet’s Message</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_49">49</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#TO_A_FAR_DISTANT_FRIEND">To a Far Distant Friend</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_52">52</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_PROMISE">The Promise</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_54">54</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#WHERE_LILIES_GROW">Where Lilies Grow</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_57">57</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#NATURES_LESSONS">Nature’s Lessons</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_59">59</a></td></tr>
-</table>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_1" id="page_1">{1}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<h2><a name="THE_BUSH_FIRE" id="THE_BUSH_FIRE"></a>THE BUSH FIRE.</h2>
-
-<p class="indd"><span class="smcap">Stockman</span> (<i>Loq.</i>).</p>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Wake</span> up, boy! the grass is burning;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">See the glare across the hill!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Flames are nearing the “Flat Paddock,”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the sheep are in there still.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Dark you say! Yes, so I think it,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Tho’ I see the field of corn;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But the lights which flicker thro’ it<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Are not those we see at dawn.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Mount the Arab! Take wet sacking!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Wet it must be, mind, not dry;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We must save the master’s cattle,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">If we perish while we try.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Ride on faster, you are younger,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Tie your horse to yonder tree,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Break some overhanging branches<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">One for you and one for me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_2" id="page_2">{2}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Face the fire and do not shirk it,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Never mind the smoke and heat;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Do not heed the dead wood cracking,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or the sparks beneath your feet.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Beat and blind them, crush and kill them,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Till their blackened embers lie<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Stark in ashes, and around you,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">One by one in darkness die.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">See the blaze is growing greater,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Now it runs with many a leap<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To where stand the tall white gum trees,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In whose limbs the parrots sleep,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Throws its fiery arms around them;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Every bird in terror flies<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From its home in grief forsaken,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Shrieking harsh unearthly cries.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Will the wind not turn to Westward,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or those great black clouds drop rain?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">There was thunder! no, I doubt it,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But do listen once again.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Now I hear the poor sheep bleating,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">How they gaze from out the gloom,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3">{3}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Like the stake-bound men we read of<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who have died the martyr’s doom.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Just this moment they were rushing<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thro’ the scrub down to the plain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Parch’d and weary. Now returning,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They seek refuge here again.<br /></span>
-<span class="idt">. . . . .<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">It was thunder! It is raining,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For the cinders, hot and red,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Hiss, as cool drops fall upon them<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Through the branches overhead.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Sweetly blows the yellow wattle<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Cross the road and up the lane,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But to me the scent is sweetest<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of the damp and moist’ning rain.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">How it plays upon the firewood,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With a pattering ceaseless sound,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Like some grand and glorious music<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Sent to soothe the saddened ground.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Take my arm, boy! I feel blinded!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Tis with joy from such a sight.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Lead me home. I will thank God there<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For His love to me to-night.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="c"><i>“The Bush Fire” appeared in “The Sydney Mail” (Christmas Number),
-December 19th, 1896.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4">{4}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="BILL_THE_GROOM" id="BILL_THE_GROOM"></a>BILL, THE GROOM.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> lights burn in the stable, and I stand in the yard,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Yet thro’ the open window I hear him breathing hard;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They watch the bed in silence where Bill the groom lies still,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For Bill the groom is surely fast going down the hill.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Twas only yestereven, he made a solemn vow<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To catch and ride the chestnut; she stands outside there now,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While he lies crushed and helpless upon a bed of pain;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He will not see the sunset behind “The Ridge” again.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The chestnut’s free and easy, a trifle too thin-skinned,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I know she isn’t faultless, though sound in limb and wind;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But I thought she’d give no trouble, for Bill said he could ride,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Australian-born he was not, he came from t’other side.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The young ones like to tell us the way they do things there,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And tho’ I always listen (you know that’s only fair),<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I wonder what would happen on those great spread-out plains,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">If when I rode “The Nigger,” I let hang loose his reins.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">When Bill first said he’d ride her, I think I did say “no,”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We told him all about her, the way that she would go,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That she had bucked and thrown us whene’er she’d got the chance.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Bill leaped the fence and caught her, she led him such a dance!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He put the saddle on her, it was not nearly tight,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I ran across and fixed it,&mdash;and he rode out of sight.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The hay-shed hid them from me, I watched them ’long the fence,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The mare then walked so quietly, I thought she’d learnt some sense;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I know he’d got his stirrups, and held the reins quite straight,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And sat his saddle firmly as he went out the gate.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I went and fed his horses, and forked their straw all round,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then something seemed to whisper that Bill was on the ground;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I thought I heard him calling, but when I raised his head<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">His face was white and fainting, he looked to me quite dead.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I don’t know how it happened; but there! my eyes grow dim,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I helped him mount the chestnut,&mdash;and she dealt his death to him.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">We brought him in and laid him upon his bed to rest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And night and day we’ve waited, just hoping for the best,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And done our utmost for him&mdash;the family are away,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The doctor says he cannot see out another day;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Tho’ living’s mostly trouble, my life I’m sure I’d give,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">If I could bring back yesterday, and let poor Billy live.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He’s waking now, they tell me, but not for long, poor lad,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">If he but had his mother, ’twould make his end less sad.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">For years they have been parted, yet strange enough it seems,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Last night she came in spirit to calm his troubled dreams.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They say she is in England, across the ocean blue:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I know she here was watching her boy the long night through.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Don’t say it all was fancy! I’m not a bushman raw;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Bill saw her when she entered, first in the open door,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He followed every footstep until she reached his bed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And caught her hand and held it, as she stroked his tired head.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And when she rose to leave us, the light, a narrow streak,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Crept underneath the windows, and tears stole down her cheek;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Her face was drooping lowly, it looked so pained and sad,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As once her glances rested upon the sleeping lad.<br /></span>
-<span class="idt">. . . . . .<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He asks about his horses, and wants to bid good-bye<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To “Colonel” and to “Captain,” to “Mill” and “Marjorie,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And even to the chestnut! he says it was his fault,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She only bucked just once or twice, and when she seemed to halt,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He pulled against the bridle, then up she reared in air<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And fell right over on him&mdash;he lay beneath her there.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Come, wheel his bed among them and turn them in their stalls,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Tis hard if he can’t see them before his strength quite falls.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">They seem to know he’s going&mdash;they lick his outstretched hand,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And as he speaks they whinny, the sight is really grand!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But when he sees the chestnut (for in the door she stood),<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I never thought a youngster could be one half as good,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He pats her, and he pets her, and strokes her bright red mane;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The beast I’m sure is sorry she’s caused him all this pain<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(I do believe I’m crying, tho’ Bill wears such a smile,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He hardly could be wicked with a face so free from guile).<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And there, among the horses, he said he heard a call,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Tho’ everyone kept silent and solemn thro’ it all.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">His voice once broke the stillness, “That’s not the stable bell?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The angels call me, mother!”&mdash;I caught him as he fell;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We did not try to raise him; I saw it was no use;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The horses they were standing, with halters swinging loose,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To watch our every movement: we took his bed inside,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And now I know they’re grieving because poor Bill has died.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="WHITE_SEA_HORSES" id="WHITE_SEA_HORSES"></a>WHITE SEA HORSES.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Glad</span> sea horses! Sad sea horses!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Rear the head, and toss the mane,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Spread out wide in bands together.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Face the boundless deep again!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Grand white horses! Stand, white horses!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Just one moment calm and still,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In the bright and sparkling sunshine!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">None would dream your wrath would kill.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Great sea horses! Stately horses!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When you gallop still be kind:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where is strength to curb your fury,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Where are reins your mouths to bind?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Urging onward, surging onward,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Wild your onset, fierce and free!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Proudly rides a ship to battle<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">O’er the line ’twixt sky and sea.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Wait, white horses! Bait, white horses!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">While you don those trappings new;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Now your noble chests are wrapt in<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Sumptuous folds of green-fringed blue.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Tall white horses! Small white horses!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Can it be in peace or war,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thus you madly race the ocean<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Till you reach the sand-strewn bar?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Champing horses! Ramping horses!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Mid the roaring, mid the noise,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ere your fetlocks churn the billows,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Proudly they uplifted poise.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Darting horses! Parting horses!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">They have broken loose away,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Flinging far behind their traces,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As they plunge among the spray!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Racing horses! Pacing horses!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When you speed with foam-shod feet,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Does, unseen, some ghost or spirit<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Prick your flanks with spurrings fleet?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Vain sea horses! Strain, sea horses,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With the sinews you possess,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Dashing high, above the waters,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Heads which never knew distress!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Fighting horses! Biting horses!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Open mouths and nostrils wide,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Arching necks and tangled forelocks,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Snapping jaws on either side.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Fierce wild horses! Pierce wild horses!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As the ship doth glide along,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They have struck athwart the bulwarks<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Blow on blow, dealt loud and strong.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Mad white horses! Bad white horses!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Has the vessel spoilt your chase?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">How you turn aside to lash it,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In a passionate embrace!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Splashing horses! Crashing horses!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Soon you frolic left and right,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Angels guard storm-beaten sailors<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who encounter you to-night!<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="SUFFOLK" id="SUFFOLK"></a>SUFFOLK.</h2>
-
-<h3>AN EVENING IN AUTUMN.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Gray</span> shadows speed the fading day,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And creeping mists assert their sway;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They rise arrayed in varied hue,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From sober black to faintest blue,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As smoke mounts o’er a slumbering fire,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or lingers round some funeral pyre.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Across the fields and in the wood,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where pheasant nestles o’er her brood,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">No sound is heard; the lifeless trees<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Scarce move their branches in the breeze,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And fallen leaves lie curled and damp<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where glow-worm shows his tiny lamp.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Soon too with day the shadowed light<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Will folded sleep, in arms of night.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Upon the marsh and up the hill<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Wild rabbits scamper with a will.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The crimson sun so warm and red<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Now sunken lies, in regal bed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And tinted clouds float gently by,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Like rose-leaves o’er a painted sky.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The bending river wends its way,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Through meadows green where oxen stray;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">It stretches out its lengthy arm,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Which twists and turns past heath and farm.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Here, wild fowl often make their nest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And plover, too, with golden crest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From off its banks will fly or run<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Amid the reeds at setting sun.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The village wrapt in sweet content<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Reviews, ere night, the day well spent;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And cotters lean without their door<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To talk with friends the season o’er.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Beyond the sward, smooth lies the beach<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Whence mighty waters onward reach,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And to the shore still rippling send<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Sweet murmurings that do not end.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">So softly do the wavelets move,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They seem to breathe but words of love<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As if they feared or trembled, lest<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They hurt one shell upon its breast;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or cast one pebble on the sand,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Lest it should know their strength of hand.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thus fades the day before my sight<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While nature waits the coming night.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>MORNING.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Dark</span> broke the daylight, cold and gray,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And sea-birds flecked the foaming spray,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Above the deep. The waves now dashed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And rolling huge, so heavily lashed<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Their watery fleece against the strand.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But yesterday, with loving hand,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They laved its face with warm caress,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And softly on its cheek did press.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The glowing sun, which blessed that day,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Now frowning clouds hid far away.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">No tinted rays could burst the veil,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Which falling thick in showers of hail,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And stinging sleet, that blew so fierce,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The smallest floweret seemed to pierce;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And tossed aside the golden sheaf,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or cut like steel each tiny leaf.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The breeze arose, but not to jest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or soothe those fears which breathe unrest;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">It sprang up strong&mdash;not lightly gay&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Nor deigned with one rose-leaf to play;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But rushing madly to the wood,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Uprooted trees as there they stood,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then threw them down among the gorse,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And crushed the ferns with cruel force.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When, whistling by the sea-girt dale,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">It caused the fisherwife to pale;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And made the worn-out rafters quake,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The sleepers suddenly awake.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The busy smacksmen set their sail,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And trim their boats to ride the gale;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While aged seamen creep in sight<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To glean the dangers of the night.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They long to join the gallant band,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Though wan of face and weak of hand,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And gaze upon the angry sea,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Which stirs the fading memory<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To bring some peril past to each,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A lesson new, their age to teach,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When walking back to humble cot,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Each ache and ailment is forgot.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And in their homes the threadbare tale<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of wreck and rescue will not fail<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The hours to enliven thro’ the day,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And chase aside the shadows gray,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Which, round their lives’ uncertain sea,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Now deepen where the warnings be<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of one last voyage which must be made<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ere sailings be for ever stayed.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>NOON.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">At</span> noon’s sweet hour came peace once more,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Wide open Nature laid her store<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of fragrant flowers&mdash;the birds sang gay,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To blot the sins of dawn away.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The sea herself, though foaming still,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Acknowledged then a stronger will,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Altho’ at night the mourner’s tear<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Fell thick and fast. Yet ever here<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Tears dew the sorrow-stricken eyes,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While grief sits by to foster sighs.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Men only learn in Heaven above<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The wisdom of our Father’s love.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="THE_FISH-GIRLS_SONG" id="THE_FISH-GIRLS_SONG"></a>THE FISH-GIRL’S SONG.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4"><span class="smcap">Clang</span>! Clang! Clang!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I set my basket down;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The bells hang high in the belfry tower,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And tell the folk ’tis the evening hour,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Through in and out the town.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">Clang! Clang! Clang!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">O hush my wooden shoon!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When gently I swing the sacred door,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And kneel me down on the marble floor<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To beg a heavenly boon.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">Clang! Clang! Clang!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Be silent, wooden shoon;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And cease your noise while I say my prayers,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When vespers soar through the winding stairs,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Up to the lonely moon.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">Clang! Clang! Clang!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Good things all end too soon;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I bow the knee as I say good-bye,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To holy place, with its spire on high:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Such restless wooden shoon!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">Clang! Clang! Clang!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Work, morning, night and noon;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For daily bread, and for nightly rest!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">My heart is cheered and my soul is blest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Ring out, O wooden shoon!<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="PHANTOMS_OF_THE_SEA" id="PHANTOMS_OF_THE_SEA"></a>PHANTOMS OF THE SEA.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Black</span> phantoms gather o’er the sea,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And move in groups mysteriously;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With shears in hand they watching wait.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The night grows old; the hour is late;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The ocean foams with angry glee,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Its waters roll tempestuously,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And dash the white salt-spangled spray<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Against the rocks, in rudest play.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The glimmering light around, below,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A sad wan face there fain would show;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But darkness claims the night’s last hour,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Enchaining it with mystic power.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In rugged outlines where they stand,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Tall, spectral cliffs shut out the land,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And shelter lend those forms who creep<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On evil wings above the deep.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">All noiselessly, with one consent,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Their work but on one object bent,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They carry out a sovereign will,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And never rest, and ne’er are still.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They look like beings who frequent<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A nether world&mdash;their time is spent<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In weaving sorrow, grief, and pain<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For those who sail the boundless main.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Quite unaware, from out the night,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A ship glides forth so tall and white<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Amid the darkness. Straightway she<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Steers headlong to Eternity.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The vessel bears across the deep<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A freight, who all unconscious sleep.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Gray gloom hath topped each frowning height<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Which rising phantoms hide from sight;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With outstretched hands in air they loom,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The ship to beckon to its doom.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But no, not yet; ’tis not to be;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thou’rt cheated! Look, thou angry sea!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Above the heights, there doth appear<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A form, upholding high a spear<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of sparkling light! It is the morn!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The night is dead! The day is born!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Begone!” she cries, her hand she rears;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Bend low your heads, let fall your shears!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Away, you evil-meaning bands!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Aye! Hide your faces in your hands.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Together link yourselves and flee,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And leave the brave in peace with me.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The ship is stayed. The helm they turn,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While sailors’ hearts within them burn<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To see the rocks, the seething foam,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The whirlpool eddying round its home,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And giant cliffs so near at hand.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A treacherous path those spirits planned,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To lead them onward to their doom.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">There soon they must have found a tomb,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Had not the morning’s early light<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Reclaimed them from the clutch of night.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="THE_WATER_FROG" id="THE_WATER_FROG"></a>THE WATER FROG.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">I wander</span> far by bank and stream,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Then paddle back thro’ wave and foam,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Cross pebble stones, where waters leap;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A froth-clad doorway hides my home.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Neath fern leaves’ shade I gently dream,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">While circling weeds around me throng;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The restless waters softly flow,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Their babbling sounds like some sweet song.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">When stronger grows the northern breeze,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The driven stream with noisy roar,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Blown foremost by the boisterous wind,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Bursts headlong thro’ my shivered door.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A twisted twig I hop or climb,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">’Tis maddening pace at times we ride;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">First, twirling gaily round in air,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Then smoothly on the waters glide.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Great frowning rocks above look down:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With scornful glance they watch my glee,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Aloud I croak, and broadly smile.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">What matter if they angry be?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Our fleeting life is far too short,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Tho’ merry as it well can be;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The good, together with the bad,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Can sweeten still this world for me.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And when I reach my cosy home,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The bubbling waters shout “Hurrah,”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And hurrying onward, tell the tale<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To other streams both near and far;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">How I have braved the tempest’s din.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And now beneath the lofty pine,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While angry thunders make reply,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In sweet contentment I recline.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="THE_FOREST_KINGS_LAMENT" id="THE_FOREST_KINGS_LAMENT"></a>THE FOREST KING’S LAMENT.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Where</span> linger the people I once called my own?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In depths of the forest I stand here alone;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where waits my beloved one, my queen and my bride?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Twas seldom she wandered thus far from my side.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I hear not, I see not the world where they live;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">No day-dream reveals it, or comfort will give<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To passionate longing; hope dies in the heart<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of man when he dwells from his fellows apart.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With weary complaining I question again;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Mid rivers and mountains I hear a refrain<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From cliff to the valley seem clearly to ring&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Alone in thy kingdom where once thou wert king!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">From over wide seas the white chieftains had come<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To rest in our mountains and claim our dear home;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Twas morn in the vale when we rose up to fight,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Twas darker than darkness, that fell ere the night.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Our farewells were short, as thro’ thicket we sprang,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">All armed with sharp spears and the curved boomerang;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">My people loud shouted their battle-cry old,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A quick answer came, by the bullet soon told!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I prayed as I fell, “May I speedily die<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With those who, around me, now silently lie<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Like reeds in a tempest, struck low by the rain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who never to life will awaken again!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I dragged myself back, yet scarce knew it was day,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or if any escaped from the heat of the fray;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">No voice there I heard, not a sigh, not a sound,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As fainting, I lay on the grass-trodden ground.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But morning brought life, and the noonday gave strength,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The day slowly passed, and with evening at length<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(Kind Nature had nourished my famishing frame)<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I found I could rise, though enfeebled and lame.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Though why should I value that newly found breath?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For bitter is life to me, sweeter is death,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And if I felt sure I should find them at last,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With joy would I join those true friends of the past.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I’ve sought the deep hollows, the gorge, and ravine,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From mallee to plain not a creature is seen.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">White chieftains have journeyed and left me to rest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They scour all the country from east to the west.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Alone in my camp, now, when fadeth the day,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I sit in the firelight the lizard to flay;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Tho’ nights are as fine as were those we could choose<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To dance the corroboree, feast or carouse<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Around the bush fire piled with myall and pine,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And box, red and white, or the cedar-wood fine!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Once danced we the war-dance from dark till the dawn,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And stayed not to rest until sunlight was born.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Warm sunshine still plays among myriad leaves,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where silver-like thread the tarantula weaves;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I see thro’ the green the bright web he hath spun,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And kingfishers dazzling the light of the sun;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From nests in the banks quick they flash in and out.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While jackass sits laughing with comical shout<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Mid branches o’erhead, wearing plumage of brown,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The river beneath floweth steadily down.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thus murmuring, the ripples bring tears to my eye,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They sound like the tones of my loved one’s reply;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I turn right away, just to stifle the pain<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of knowing she never will hear them again.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Alone on the marshes the water-hens float,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With cresses and rushes surrounding their throat,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They pluck at the circles of mud-coloured slime,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Which harden and bake in the summer’s sweet time.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">If water be scarce, or if river run dry,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">There sandpiper, too, on occasion will hie,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And heron or pelican often be seen,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Food patiently seeking in silence serene.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">At times I do wonder if haply they know<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">What power has arisen my sway to o’erthrow?&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">What memories they stir! When they rise on the wing<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I dream of the days when I reigned here as king.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The wattle’s scent mingles with that of the briar,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where tower the white gum trees in noble attire:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In days when we hunted the emu abreast,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Twas under their shade we would lie down and rest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Till curlew at evening poured wail upon wail<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That circled the forest and crept thro’ the vale,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then, meeting the echoes amid the wide plain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Would rise there and fall there, and circle again.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Do yearnings increasing disturb the strong breeze,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That moans in the brushwood and grieves in the trees?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Its sob overcomes me, no more can I sing,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But bend low in anguish where once I stood king!<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="THE_DROVERS_VISION" id="THE_DROVERS_VISION"></a>THE DROVER’S VISION.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> drover’s camp one evening in hushful calm lay still,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Its fitful flickering firelight made bright the western hill;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The bronzed and bearded drover had stretched himself to rest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In childlike peaceful slumber, his arms across his breast.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">His saddle formed a pillow, the thick, coarse grass his bed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While mounting sparks were casting a halo round his head.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Then sweetest dreams came pouring to charm the weary brain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He saw his mob of cattle outspread upon the plain;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But curling whip lay silent, and watchful dog slept sound,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As deeper grew the stillness which held its sway around:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thro’ forest paths an angel had sped with hurried haste,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The twining leaves he forced apart until he reached the waste.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Past many growing townships, o’er tracks of sun-dried plain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And rocky hills and rivers, he brought his tale of pain.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Long shadows rose to meet him; in groups they gathered round,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While trees unbent and listened in reverence o’er the ground,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where hallowed steps had fallen, where an angel late had trod,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Whose holy feet with pity, and love, and faith were shod.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The drover heard those footsteps; he felt an icy breath,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And, turning round in greeting, beheld the face of Death,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A vision bending o’er him, and holding, gently down,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A tiny suffering infant whose life had well-nigh flown.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">It raised its fragile body, and softly turned to rest<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Beside him, closely nestling against his massive breast.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And, as the shadows parted, the small wan features smiled<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Upon him, oh! so sweetly, and he saw it was his child.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A moment more, it left him, and thro’ the dimness fled<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Back to the Angel vision, with tiny hands outspread.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The white-robed arms enfold it, and glances sweet and rare<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Fall on the stricken drover, who lies in darkness there.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">When morning breaks, the sunshine streams over a moving throng<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of cattle pressing onward, while breezes bear along<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The sound of parrots’ chattering; and sweet toned bell-pbirds sing,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Like chimes on a Sabbath morning, their notes through the bushland ring,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And tall trees wave their branches athwart the rosy light,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Forgetting in their pleasure, the sorrow of the night.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The drover’s world is darkened, his heart is wrung with pain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As gazing o’er the hill-side where his ash-strewn camp had lain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He thinks of the vanished spirit and heavily droops his head,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While sadness sits in his saddle&mdash;he knows his child is dead.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He prays with fervent pleadings that his babe may stay its flight<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In God’s own Heavenly Kingdom&mdash;His home of love and light.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="THE_HOMESTEAD" id="THE_HOMESTEAD"></a>THE HOMESTEAD.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">There</span> stands the homestead; white amid the trees<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">So lowly set, where stirs a faint warm breeze.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Across the sward the thronging cattle pass,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Their colours blurred, as, in one moving mass,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Loosed from the yard, the panting creatures seek<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Their restful pastures by the flowing creek.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Yet sunlight lingers in the crimson leaves,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And, where it touches, softer beauty weaves.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">It plays around the open entrance-door,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And casts its glowing radiance on the floor.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">See on each drooping flower whose heavy head<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Bows the tired stalk, the dying sunbeams shed<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A faded splendour, lending deeper grace<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To all those colours which their rays embrace.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">All through the day the busy droning bee<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Has music made by every flowering tree,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And sipped the goodness from the blossom sweet,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Which bursting full bloomed in refulgent heat.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Now where the shaded corner screens the hive,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The laden workers one by one arrive,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With merry hum and din, the tiny throng<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Fill the cool garden with their evensong.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Long slanting shadows creep from out the shade,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And clouds above accumulate and fade.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In one short breath, like foam upon the sea,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When rising winds the ocean bubbles free,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They shape themselves and vanish into space,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And others quickly follow in their place.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The heated day departs, yet gentle night,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Though venturing nearer, veils her face from sight,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Patient awaiting that belovèd hour<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When like a queen, she rises, full of power,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To grasp the fallen sceptre of the day,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And calm her subjects, casting care away,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While freshening dewdrops cool the fevered land,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With gentle touch as of a mother’s hand.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The great brown eagle hurries home to rest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Amid the rugged mountains in the west:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where yawning space asserts herself, between<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The towering cliff, deep gorge and dark ravine,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where ferns and bracken grow, and interlace<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Their beauteous fronds across the rock’s stern face,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He lives a king, within a regal nest<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The feathered monarch of the lonely west.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Above him sombre flocks of ibis fly,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On drooping wing, across the tinted sky,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And mar the beauty of its golden light<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">By their uneven lines and lengthened flight.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Upon the hillside, motionless and calm,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Like sentinels who shelter all from harm;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The stalwart trees extend their branches white<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And keep their silent watches through the night.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">Behold, like glistening silver, quickly glide,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Yet farther off, the river’s hurrying tide!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">By sandy shores and widening banks it flows,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Till tranquil to the open sky it shows<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A gleaming face, reflecting dear and true<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Its answering gaze from out the deepening blue.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">One spot alone defiles the sand’s white breast,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where some foul crawling snake a track imprest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Recording by the broken mud-stained trail,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The linked contortions of its twisting tail.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A solitary horse surmounts the steep,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Bringing its rider home to well-earned sleep.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The threatening troubles which his hand must stay,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The heavy toil, the worries of the day,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Are all forgotten, as upon the plain<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He sees his homestead rise to view again.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A happy smile lights up his sunburnt face,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When on the breeze sweet voices he can trace,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of those he loves who watch for him, and wait<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To give him welcome at the open gate.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">Upon the giant boulder’s flattened stone,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Which bars the stream, in ages that have gone,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where cool soft shade the river oak tree throws,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Twas there the black man’s spear uplifted rose,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And pierced the darting fish with matchless aim,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then stooped his dusky arm his spoil to claim.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When summer evening too his world made bright,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And bathed the trees and flowers in crimson light,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The sunset tingeing red each leaf and bough,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And all the bush was beautiful as now,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Often he rose and wandered by the bank;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where grew the native thistles tall and rank,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With blithesome step, and sure unfaltering tread,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He traced a winding road; about his head<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The trailing creepers from the trees hung low,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And snow-white petals brushed his swarthy brow.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The hazy sun-spots danced and round him played,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While silken cobwebs shimmered through the shade.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And here and there the fragrant wattle leant<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Across his path, as leisurely he went,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To where the open plains their limits kept,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Above the dense growth which the hillside swept.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Fleet would his dogs, with noisy bark, pursue<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The bustard wild or startled kangaroo.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But time has changed! The black man’s race is run:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">No more at even, when the dying sun<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Is sinking to its rest, will he be seen<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In that fair spot: the tufted rushes green<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">May conclaves form upon the wide expanse,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Still in the river-bend the fish may glance,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And waters chant their rhyming lullaby;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But not for him. He never will descry<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The painted plumage on the parrot’s wing,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Nor listen where the woodland echoes ring,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With shouts of laughter from that peering bird<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who sits, convulsed, in attitude absurd,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Amid the leaves which crown the shrunken limb<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That slanting reaches to the waters’ brim.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Advancing Time has turned another page,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And gives the land a new, a greater age.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">Already too that young land, having past<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Her childhood, stands to claim her place at last,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Already walks at her great Mother’s side<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Among the nations in majestic pride,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While Britain glances on that comely face<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Whose every feature bears her stamp of race.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She guidance gave her through her infant days,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And lit her path with all ungrudging rays.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In early years the daughter learnt full well<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To whom to trust her steps when darkness fell;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While knowledge of the help and love she drew<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From out her Mother’s breast woke fondness true.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Yet still the daughter wore a listless air,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Dependent, and too young for thought or care,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Till came o’er foaming seas a rude alarm,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Foes taunt thy Mother with uplifted arm!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The strength of her great parent she knew well<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Could all unaided threats and foes repel!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But now she starts, stung by the hostile words<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of those who stand around with naked swords!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Upstirred, the ancient pride within her veins,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And courage quick, from caution snatched the reins.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She called her sons, the towns, the bushland through;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Called them to arms! Australians brave and true!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Resentment fierce, which could no longer hold<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Itself in check, burned wild and uncontrolled,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That covert acts a noble queen distrest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or robbed fair England of her quiet rest.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Her sons obey, striplings and men full-grown<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Prepare for war, and conflicts yet unknown.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With fearless mien, and flashing angry eye,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Each girds a soldier’s sword upon his thigh.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A heightened blush o’erspreads his glowing cheek,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Erect he stands, though passing young to speak,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While from his brow he sweeps the kiss of sleep,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Which lingered there in languid rapture deep,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And filled his senses, letting him forget<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The duty manhood made a sacred debt.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Quickly he sends across the billows wild<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">This message to the Mother from her child:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Think not that I can dwell in calm repose<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While friends around thee waver, and rude foes<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Goad thee to anger with coarse gibe and leer,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And flaunt before thine eyes the lifted spear.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From thee I rose: for thee I can but fall!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thy need suffices for my battle-call.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The tones all quickly tell the sword gleams bare<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Within the youthful hand uplifted there.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Her fond smile deepens as the Mother hears<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Still further comfort which the ocean bears.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Her proudest glory is her children’s love,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who with their life-blood loyalty would prove.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When thro’ the arid desert’s sandy waste<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The Royal standard presses in its haste<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Around the Mother’s flag, the foeman sees<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Her daughter’s banner floating in the breeze:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Those soldier-children in a southern clime<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Sacred will hold that heritage sublime.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Let England’s enemies remember well<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The fortunes which the elder flag befell<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On battle-fields, in troubled days of old,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Nor think her ancient spirit has waxed cold.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The past, the present, and the days to come,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Will show how sons of England guard their home!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">Great England! not thy sea-girt shore alone,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That stretches round the Queenly Sovereign’s throne,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But all the widening sway, and boundless grace,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of those vast countries which a world embrace,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where dwell the sons of Britain. Ill betide<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who speaks against their country strong and wide!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Throughout the world one patriotic zeal<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Binds the vast empire, as with links of steel,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To that sweet peaceful Isle we call our home.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thither, from mountain top, or crested foam,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We turn our thoughts (as flowers turn to the sun),<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And cherish high what there our fathers won.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">If far away we watch the sunlight fade,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Beyond the range (where in past years, dismayed<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The tired explorer stood, with weary brow,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And gazed across the mallee high and low),<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We thrust the shadows back, and think the while<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">How men forget their fears to win her smile.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">What danger will they face if to her name<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Twill add new lustre, or still wider fame!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or if we stand within the city’s pale<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where once rode armoured knights in coated mail,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of those we think beneath its sacred dome,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">So long since gone, who also called it home!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And proud we feel in this brief passing hour,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That God with bounteous grace has given us power<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To call it ours! His strong far-reaching hand<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Has kept a faithful watch above this land.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">Light has departed! In the western hills<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Its place around the homestead darkness fills;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Save in the windows, whence the smiling lamp<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Outshines the gloom and cheers the distant camp,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where with their flocks the drovers spend the night<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In restful slumber until morning light.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">One stage is finished! stars gleam in the sky<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As weary heads on pillowing saddles lie.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Around the men sweet dreams their cobwebs spin,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And soon shut out the day’s unrestful din.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">All through the air a new-born stillness grows<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As sleep, around, a mystic thraldom throws:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Above, below, her soothing angels spread,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On beast, and bird, o’er things alive and dead,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Their blissful wings, while voices never cease<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To chant in silvery tones a song of peace.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="THE_BUSHMANS_WOOING" id="THE_BUSHMANS_WOOING"></a>THE BUSHMAN’S WOOING.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“<span class="smcap">Short</span> grows my leave,” the bushman said,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“My love I will avow;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When I come back, the maid I’ll wed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">If she will hear me now.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">So fair this maiden was, and bright,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She’d suitors more than one,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But when the bushman rode in sight,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She met him there alone.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She heard him speak of golden love,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A blessing, deep and true,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Such love was theirs, he fain would prove<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">If she would let him woo<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And claim her there, when work was done.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The maiden glanced adown;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Not thus,” she said, “must I be won,”<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And smoothed her silken gown.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Then angry spake the man aloud;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">He saw the hand, so small;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While o’er his face there came a cloud,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">These words his lips let fall,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“A stockman may seem rough or rude,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Yet all the while be bold,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Tis not because the quartz is crude,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">It can’t contain the gold.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“A bushman’s life is wild and free,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That easy is to read,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Don’t live to learn just what you see,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But take the will for deed.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Now all this time I know you meant,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Not ‘No’ to say, but ‘Yes!’<span class="lftspc">”</span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then as he spake, the tall man bent<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">His head, her hand to press.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The maiden would not seem to see,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But drew her hand aside,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“The man I love must courteous be,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Ere I will be his bride.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You say the life is rough and wild,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">You think the man is bold;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I still could wish the stone were filed<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That one might see the gold!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“To-morrow morn I’ll hear your tale,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And then, perhaps, I’ll say<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A word of comfort if you fail<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To win my love to-day.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">My heart is not a paltry toy,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Just worn upon the sleeve,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To give away to man or boy,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who barely asks my leave.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“At morn,” he said, “I take the sheep<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Beyond the Queensland line;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We start before you wake from sleep;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Just place your hand on mine,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And say, ‘God bless you, Jim, to-night,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And bring you safely back;’<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I then can face the hottest fight<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Or meet the fiercest black.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">All anger from his face had fled,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">His eyes with sweetness shone,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The maiden’s cheek went white, then red,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She stood as turned to stone.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Her lips they moved, as if to say<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Some words to reach his ear,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But minutes pass, and still they stay<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Pressed close as if with fear.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">One moment more, and then he knelt<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Low at her feet to ask<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The blessing sweet, for still he felt<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">’Twould lighten all his task.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Her hand so small was stretched out there,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And laid between his own,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And while he held it, white and fair,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">This maiden’s pride had flown.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He felt her trembling fingers move,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Yet low he humbly bent<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Before her there to prove his love,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The while she grew content.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And then she spoke, he scarce could hear,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Her voice fell soft and sweet,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Twas ‘Yes’ I meant, I cannot bear<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To see you at my feet.”<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="THE_VIOLETS_MESSAGE" id="THE_VIOLETS_MESSAGE"></a>THE VIOLET’S MESSAGE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">All</span> radiant was the garden with choice and precious flowers;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Rare blossoms in their “houses” enwove resplendent bowers.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They were the rich man’s treasures, he gave them every care,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And yet the dew of heaven could never reach them there.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They did not feel the raindrops, or sunshine warmly bright,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Nor winced beneath the dangers of a cold and frosty night.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For all were closely tended and spared from every ill,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A gardener’s hand had planted each flower with dainty skill.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Now outside in the meadow, a modest violet grew,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And no one ever watched it, for no one ever knew;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Still there it lived and flourished, and scent of flowerets small<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Was carried by the breezes across the high stone wall.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">It reached the great man’s window, was wafted thro’ the door,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And made the air seem fresher than ever it was before.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">It reached the great man’s heart, too, and whispered in his ear,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To tell a loving message, in accents sweet and clear.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He saw once more his birthplace and childhood’s happy years;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Tis not a vision only, the brain both sees and hears.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">There stands the old white cottage, long vanished from his sight,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He feels the cool wind blowing across the fields at night.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In waters of the streamlet that graced the woodland scene,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He seemed to see reflected the man he might have been.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He sighed, “O gentle violet, so tender and so true!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of all my rich collection, not one compares with you.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Your coming here has taught me, how I may walk each day,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The paths where you are lovely in your sweet simple way.”<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="TO_A_FAR_DISTANT_FRIEND" id="TO_A_FAR_DISTANT_FRIEND"></a>TO A FAR DISTANT FRIEND.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2"><span class="smcap">Eyes</span> that are true,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Shadowed with blue,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Speak her sweet mind:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Out of her face,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Calm in its grace,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Looks the spirit behind.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">Swift ocean tide,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Steep mountain side,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Stand now between:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Yet will my heart,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Sacred, apart,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Treasure days that have been.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">No sunlight plays<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With the same rays<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On her and me:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Time’s shortening wing<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Troubles may bring,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Clouding Life’s restless sea.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">Still I will pray<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Her heavenward way<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thrice may be blest;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Angels to guide,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Walk by her side,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Love her ever the best.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="THE_PROMISE" id="THE_PROMISE"></a>THE PROMISE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Where</span> are the angel-fingers<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That traced the road I trod,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And pointed out so clearly<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The heavenly way to God?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Where are the noble faces,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The eyes, quick flashing light,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That warned me there was danger<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Before it came in sight?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Where are the cheerful voices<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I knew in days of youth?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Through every tone came ringing<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A thrill of earnest truth.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Why did they tire and vanish,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And leave me here alone,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To stumble on a pathway<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Beset with jagged stone?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I hear no sound to bless me,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I see no hand to guide<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">My feet o’er thorny places,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Or point where ways divide,<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Though every sign-post tells me,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That I have gone astray,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And arms for ever beckon,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Yet, further lengths away.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">My heart grows hot and weary,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">My soul is filled with care,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And thoughts around me thronging,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Have quenched all wish for prayer.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I wail in keenest anguish,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Must I sink beneath the sod,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On earth, not find my Father,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In death, not reach my God?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The clouds above me open,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And a glorious ray of light<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Comes streaming out of darkness,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A voice speaks thro’ the night,<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“You have a faithful promise,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Escape for you is near,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When grows the tempter’s presence<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Too great for you to bear.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Arise and journey onward:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A two-edged, flaming sword<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Directs you to your Saviour,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Through His Almighty Word.”<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="WHERE_LILIES_GROW" id="WHERE_LILIES_GROW"></a>WHERE LILIES GROW.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i5"><span class="smcap">Where</span> lilies grow;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The dewdrops linger on the flowers,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The birds’ sweet singing chimes the hours,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I love to sit there listening,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And watch the fish there glistening.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They glance and dart both in and out,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And turn themselves all round about,<br /></span>
-<span class="i5">Where lilies grow.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i5">Where lilies grow;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A pace or two the violets sweet<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Spread like a carpet ’neath my feet;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The rushes tall in clusters stand;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I reach and touch them with my hand;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And yellow kingcups there unfold,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They circle like a band of gold<br /></span>
-<span class="i5">Where lilies grow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i5">Where lilies grow;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">So calm, so still it is, and deep,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Around the edge green fringes peep,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Just up above the trailing weeds<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Entwining, spread among the reeds,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then hang them down along the pool,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Which lies beneath so calm and cool,<br /></span>
-<span class="i5">Where lilies grow.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="NATURES_LESSONS" id="NATURES_LESSONS"></a>NATURE’S LESSONS.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Tell</span> me whether you have ridden<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Gallant steed a lengthy mile!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As he galloped, in your saddle<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Could you sit and calmly smile,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For you hardly felt the motion,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Tho’ his feet fell firm and strong,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Sending sparks in feathery flashes<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">From the flint-strewn road along?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Then did forests flit and vanish,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Lofty trees like spectres pass?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Looked the mountain in the distance<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Like some wavering shapeless mass?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Could you only see distinctly<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Fine-cut ears and flowing mane,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While your fingers felt the snaffle<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Pulling doubly on the rein?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Have you ever watched the river,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Bounding onward to the sea,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Have you heard the restless throbbing<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of the waters’ joyous glee,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From the upland to the valley<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Still so bravely battling on,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Turning not for gain, or pleasure,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Till its goal is safely won?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Have you seen the kingly eagle,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Rising, leave his nest on high,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Wings outstretched, eyes glancing sunward,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As he cleaves the azure sky?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Quite as glorious as the river<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">(For one hand has made the two),<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Reared and dwelling near the heavens,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Linking those blue heights with you.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">When we sail across the ocean,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Far from sight or reach of land,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Feel we then the vessel fighting<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">White sea-horses in a band?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Fierce and wild they turn and double,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Waves of water wildly moan.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Joining there they lash the bulwarks<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Till the ship will creak and groan.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Tho’ the joy lay yet unconscious,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Time in after days will bring,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Out of all such scenes, a token,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Breathing of some better thing.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Our tired senses will awaken<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">From their slumberings, fresh and strong,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While a holier spirit bids us,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Love the right, and hate the wrong.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">’Tis not thought of fame or fortune<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That rebounds within the mind,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Stifling every earthly passion,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Opening eyes which long were blind.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">There, revealed, lie noble secrets,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">What is greatest, noblest, best,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In our natures, then uprising,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Make such scenes for ever blest.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="fint">THE END.<br /><br /><br />
-<img src="images/i_062.jpg" width="200" alt="text decoration" title="" />
-</p>
-
-<hr class="full" />
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
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-Ida, (Ida Louisa), (1865-1943) Lee
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