Even so, I think, the day dreams, too,
As men, as nations, hour by living hour,
And in the happy turning of a flower,
A leaf, a bird-song, all her dreams come true.
For, as at dawn, she dabbles in her dew,
And in the blue noon, out from some green bower
Shakes her fair hair low down in a glad shower,
Her eyes with visions flock and grow more blue.
She sees a rarer light than the brave sun;
She glimpses magic blossoms large and white.
Dusk, like a black cloud, draws her prison bars.
She dies and fancies all is lost and done;
Then leaps her dream! The great moon takes the night,
Calm 'mid her cold incomparable stars.
First published in The Sydney Morning Herald, 10 January 1925
Author reference sites: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography, Old Qld Poetry
See also.
As men, as nations, hour by living hour,
And in the happy turning of a flower,
A leaf, a bird-song, all her dreams come true.
For, as at dawn, she dabbles in her dew,
And in the blue noon, out from some green bower
Shakes her fair hair low down in a glad shower,
Her eyes with visions flock and grow more blue.
She sees a rarer light than the brave sun;
She glimpses magic blossoms large and white.
Dusk, like a black cloud, draws her prison bars.
She dies and fancies all is lost and done;
Then leaps her dream! The great moon takes the night,
Calm 'mid her cold incomparable stars.
First published in The Sydney Morning Herald, 10 January 1925
Author reference sites: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography, Old Qld Poetry
See also.
