She sleeps and I see through a shadowy haze, Where the hopes of the past and the dreams that I cherished In the sunlight of brighter and happier days, As the mists of the morning, have faded and perished....
The viewless blast flies moaning past, Away to the forest trees, Where giant pines and leafless vines Bend 'neath the wandering breeze! From ferny streams, unearthly screams...
Wizened the wood is, and wan is the way through it; White as a corpse is the face of the fen; Only blue adders abide in and stray through it Adders and venom and horrors to men....
There's music wafting on the air, The evening winds are sighing Among the trees and yonder stream Is mournfully replying, Lamenting loud the sunny light That in the west is dying. ...
Australia, advancing with rapid winged stride, Shall plant among nations her banners in pride, The yoke of dependence aside she will cast, And build on the ruins and wrecks of the Past....
Set your face toward the darkness tell of deserts weird and wide, Where unshaken woods are huddled, and low, languid waters glide; Turn and tell of deserts lonely, lying pathless, deep and vast,...
With sweet Regret'(the dearest thing that Yesterday has left us)' We often turn our homeless eyes to scenes whence Fate has reft us. Here sitting by a fading flame, wild waifs of song remind me...
A sky of wind! And while these fitful gusts Are beating round the windows in the cold, With sullen sobs of rain, behold I shape A settler's story of the wild old times:...
Like one who meets a staggering blow, The stout old ship doth reel, And waters vast go seething past But will it last, this fearful blast, On straining shroud and groaning mast, O sailor at the wheel?...
Now comes the fierce north-easter, bound About with clouds and racks of rain, And dry, dead leaves go whirling round In rings of dust, and sigh like pain Across the plain. ...
The verdant ivy clings around Yon moss be-mantled wall, As if it sought to hide the stones, That crumbling soon must fall: That relic of a bygone age Now tottering to decay,...
He crouches, and buries his face on his knees, And hides in the dark of his hair; For he cannot look up to the storm-smitten trees, Or think of the loneliness there Of the loss and the loneliness there....
Sad faces came round, and I dreamily said 'Though the harp of my country now slumbers, Some hand will pass o'er it, in love for the dead, And attune it to sorrowful numbers!'...
Rolling through the gloomy gorges, comes the roaring southern blast, With a sound of torrents flying, like a routed army, past, And, beneath the shaggy forelands, strange fantastic forms of surf...
Brothers from far-away lands, Sons of the fathers of fame, Here are our hearts and our hands This is our song of acclaim. Lords from magnificent zones, Shores of superlative sway,...
The sun o'er the waters was throwing In the freshness of morning its beams; And the breast of the ocean seemed glowing With glittering silvery streams: A bark in the distance was bounding...
Where the pines with the eagles are nestled in rifts, And the torrent leaps down to the surges, I have followed her, clambering over the clifts, By the chasms and moon-haunted verges....
It passed like the breath of the night-wind away, It fled like a mist at the dawn of the day; It lasted its moment, then backward was hurled, Another increase to the age of the world. ...
Hear ye not the waters beating where the rapid rivers, meeting With the winds above them fleeting, hurry to the distant seas, And a smothered sound of singing from old Ocean upwards springing,...