Down to the lighthouse pillar The rolling woodland comes, Gay with the gold of she-oaks And the green of the stunted gums, With the silver-grey of honeysuckle, With the wasted bracken red,...
This is the maiden Solitude, too fair For mortal eyes to gaze on, she who dwells In the lone valley where the water wells Clear from the marble, where the mountain air...
The morning star paled slowly, the Cross1 hung low to the sea, And down the shadowy reaches the tide came swirling free, The lustrous purple blackness of the soft Australian night...