#AustralianWriters
QUIETLY as rosebuds Talk to thin air, Love came so lightly I knew not he was there. Quietly as lovers
Beauty imposes reverence in the S… Grave as the urge within the honey… It wounds us as we sing. Beauty is joy that stays not overl… Clad in the magic of sincerities,
The bird is my neighbour, a whimsi… There is in the lake a nobility fa… The bird is a noble, he turns to t… And the ripples are thoughts comin… The bird is both ancient and excel…
ALL singers have shadows That follow like fears, But I know a singer Who never saw tears; A gay love—a green love—
When you go underground with all y… Your kindly lies and your ridiculo… You shall not ever fear to face ag… The strong man’s rage, the woman w… Nor song nor sigh will beat upon y…
THE STARS are pale. Old is the Night, his case is gri… His strength doth fail. Through stilly hours The dews have draped with love’s o…
In the dim counties we take the long calm Lilting no haziness, sequel or psalm. The little street wenches,
Shyly the silver-hatted mushrooms… Soft entrance through, And undelivered lovers, half awake… Hear noises in the dew Yellow in all the earth and in the…
He has the full moon on his breast… The moonbeams are about hs wing; He has the colours of a king. I see him floating unto rest When all eyes wearily go west,
HAVE you ever been down to my co… Where the trees are green and tall… The days are long and the heavens… But the people there are small. There is no work there; it is alwa…
O HEART of Spring! Spirit of light and love and joyou… So soon to faint beneath the fiery… Still smiles the Earth, eager for… Welcome art thou, soever short thy…
Oh ’twas a poor country, in Autum… The only green was the cutting gra… Oh, the thin wheat and the brown o… But down in the poor country no pa… My wealth it was the glow that liv…
In the far days, when every day wa… Fear was upon me and the fear was… Ere I had learned the recompense… In the dim days I trembled, for I… God was above me, always frowning…
YOUR voice was the rugged old voice that I knew; I gave the best grip of my greeting to you. I knew not of your lips—
Ragged, unheeded, stooping, meanly… The poor pass to the pond: not far… The spires go up to God. Shyly they come from the unpainted… Coats have they made of old unhapp…
