  I know that the tawny grass of the plain Is blown like the sea to-day By the wind that follows the autumn rain And chases the clouds away, And ruffles the winding lagoon, and now The sky’s blue, dewy and clean, Will show in the lee where the rushes bow Like shattered aquamarine. To-day, when the cranes in their grey and pink Fish solemnly in the weeds, To-day, when the cattle come down to drink And push through the whispering reeds, And they do not heed or fear; There is not one lark in the radiant blue Whose carol I do not hear. This morning the wind on the grasses brown Blows tingling and sweet and rare; Now though my body must tarry in town Thank God that my soul is there! Sydney, Australia. |
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