A breezy day and a cloudless sky,
And the wide grass plains to the west;
The willow boughs that are tossed on high
Are all in their spring garb dressed;
The grape vine clings to the station home,
Where the swallows are darting through,
And the bay horse stamps, for he would roam
Thro' the sweet scrub tracks with you.
But you linger still with a thoughtful eye,
A winsome shape--most fair,
From the slender foot with its instep high
To the crown of your wind-blown hair.
Come, girl of my heart, for the horses walk,
And the road to the south runs free;
I have but to turn and unlatch the gate,
And I ask you to go with me.
Tarry no longer; "to-day" is ours,
"To-morrow" the gods hold yet;
We may seek in vain this morning's flowers
Ere to-day and its sun have set.
Then leap to the saddle, and off! away!
How the grass from our hoof-beats springs!
Let us know to-night we have had "to-day,"
Whatever "to-morrow" brings!
First published in The Queenslander, 29 May 1897
