 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
“AURORA AUSTRALIS.”
There is a world of forest land and leas,
Girdled and guarded by the wash of seas,
That take the radiance of the Southern star,
And rise at once a bulwark and a bar—
A virgin world of joy, with wonders new,
That hitherto have kept their fairy dew,
Fresh with the fragrance of a nameless grace,
And revelations of a veiléd face;
While savage grandeurs in their sternness meet,
With all that is most delicate and sweet,
And pathless thickets threaten, dark and dire,
Uncrossed by any foot but that of fire;
Where linger on a thousand sylvan charms,
And towering gum trees spread their mighty arms;
Where green retreats and quiet shelter woo,
The wandering emu and the kangaroo,
Drawn to the refuge of these lonely lands,
As by the presence of protecting hands.
For yet a splendid spell is all its own,
The magic mystery of a world unknown,
Whose untrod spaces fancy peoples still,
With miracles of nature's wildest will;
And ghostly stories fill the outlines dark,
Which great explorers gave their lives to mark.
Here, on the borders of the trackless waste,
Fair flocks of sheep an alien pasture taste
And by their myriads, on the grassy run,
Grow to fresh beauty in a brighter sun.
While wringing treasures from their rocky hold,
The miner works his way through paths of gold.
Girdled and guarded by the wash of seas,
That take the radiance of the Southern star,
And rise at once a bulwark and a bar—
A virgin world of joy, with wonders new,
That hitherto have kept their fairy dew,
Fresh with the fragrance of a nameless grace,
And revelations of a veiléd face;
While savage grandeurs in their sternness meet,
With all that is most delicate and sweet,
And pathless thickets threaten, dark and dire,
Uncrossed by any foot but that of fire;
Where linger on a thousand sylvan charms,
And towering gum trees spread their mighty arms;
Where green retreats and quiet shelter woo,
The wandering emu and the kangaroo,
Drawn to the refuge of these lonely lands,
As by the presence of protecting hands.
For yet a splendid spell is all its own,
The magic mystery of a world unknown,
Whose untrod spaces fancy peoples still,
With miracles of nature's wildest will;
And ghostly stories fill the outlines dark,
Which great explorers gave their lives to mark.
Here, on the borders of the trackless waste,
Fair flocks of sheep an alien pasture taste
And by their myriads, on the grassy run,
Grow to fresh beauty in a brighter sun.
304
The miner works his way through paths of gold.
There is a spot, where summer never fades,
Besides these shy but hospitable shades,
A virgin city, crowned with joyous youth,
Not blighted yet by scathe or scar uncouth,
Where progress reigns and art puts forth its plea,
And winds the yellow Yarra to the sea,
A glory and a marvel to all time,
Where life is simple and the thought sublime;
Whose past is brief, but has a brighter page,
Than the dull records of ignoble age.
Here sovereign commerce holds its court, and sways
The varying fortunes of adventurous days,
And with calm fingers, that divine and probe,
Feels all the fickle pulses of the globe.
While in the free and friendly haven meet,
The gallant flags of many a merchant fleet.
To her the Future, with its boundless hopes,
A world of promise and of splendour opes;
While still unfold the hours their young romance,
And bid the child of victory advance.
Besides these shy but hospitable shades,
A virgin city, crowned with joyous youth,
Not blighted yet by scathe or scar uncouth,
Where progress reigns and art puts forth its plea,
And winds the yellow Yarra to the sea,
A glory and a marvel to all time,
Where life is simple and the thought sublime;
Whose past is brief, but has a brighter page,
Than the dull records of ignoble age.
Here sovereign commerce holds its court, and sways
The varying fortunes of adventurous days,
And with calm fingers, that divine and probe,
Feels all the fickle pulses of the globe.
While in the free and friendly haven meet,
The gallant flags of many a merchant fleet.
To her the Future, with its boundless hopes,
A world of promise and of splendour opes;
While still unfold the hours their young romance,
And bid the child of victory advance.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |