#AustralianWriters
Yonder, with eyes that tears, not… With ears the wide world’s thickne… We see tumultuous miseries that ha… The night’s dead watches, hear the… Of ruin shrieking through the musi…
The foamy waves are swishing As patiently we thud, But O the wave of wishing That surges in my blood! Along the ocean’s rim, now,
A timid child with heart oppressed By images of sin, I slunk into the bush for rest, And found my fairy kin. The fire I carried kept me warm:
He looks beyond the veils of night… He hearkens in the silence, and ha… The ancient woods by dryad singing… To mortal ears how thin and far aw… With what gross laughter yet he tu…
Beside the path, on either hand, To keep the garden beds, The rusted iron pickets stand Thin shafts and pointed heads. And straight my spirit swooping go…
When my time is come to die, I would shun the decent gloom, Whispered word and weeping eye, Fitful hum of knowing fly Questing through the darkened room…
The doom is imminent of unholy hat… Hail to the light that glimmers wh… Are shaken by winds of dawning, an… Of hemlock swirl and scatter in th… Love, that has learned in faith to…
OUR little queen of dreams, Our image of delight, Which whitens east and gleams And beckons from the height, Takes on her human form—is here in…
Seasons bloom and seasons wither;… Must we try with floods of bitter… Vainly chase the brown and broken… Shall we scorn the flowers around… Flowers giving loads of fragrance…
Lonely wonder, delight past hoping… Sky-line broken by stirring trees, Grey rocks hither and shoreward sl… Silent bracken about my knees. Dusky scrub where the sunlight spl…
Out of the pregnant darkness, wher… To glimmering fire the watchword l… The dirge floats up from those who… High and still higher That yet shall blaze across the ve…
Spring, and the wispy clouds that… And draw the ecstatic soul in pain… In maddening flight through heaven… To melt in rapture at the heart of… The powers of the world that promi…
When winter chills your aged bones As by the fire you sit and nod, You’ll hear a passing wind that mo… And think of one beneath the sod. You’ll feebly sleek your hair of g…
What imps are these that come with… Black motes upon the morning’s amb… They crowd and float about each ha… And blow upon pure joy the taint o… Perforce those muttered hideous wo…
He, born of my girlhood, is dead,… Ere the breasts where his baby lip… We part. He was mine, he was here… My son who could trample on fear,… As I sat in the darkness, it seem…