Puslapio vaizdai
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HE Sought Australia's far-famed isle, Hoping that Fortune on his lot would smile, In search for gold. When one short year had flown,

He wrote the welcome tidings to his own Betrothed; told how months of toiling


Made ten-fold sweeter to him sudden gain;

With sanguine words, traced with love's eager hand,

He bade her join him in this bright south land.

Oft as he sat, his long day's labor o'er,
In his bush hut, he dreamed of home once


His thoughts to the old country home in Kent

Returned. 'T was Christmas-day, and they two went

O'er frost and snow; the Christmas anthem rang

Through the old church, which echoed as they sang.

That day had Philip courage gained to tell His tale of love to pretty Christabel ; And she, on her part, with ingenuous grace, Endorsed the tell-tale of her blushing face. Dream on, true lover! never, never thou Shalt press the kiss of welcome on her brow. E'en now a comrade, eager for thy gold, Above thy fond true heart the knife doth hold

One stroke, the weapon's plunged into his breast;

So sure the aim that, like a child at rest, The murdered digger lies, -a happy smile Parts the full manly bearded lips the while.

Next day they found him. In his death

cold hand,

He held his last home letter, lately scanned With love-lit eyes; and next his heart they


A woman's kerchief which, when they unwound,

Disclosed a lock of silken auburn hair
And portrait of a girl's face, fresh and fair,
Dyed with the life-blood of his faithful


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Sweeter than wild bird's throat,
Backward my memory float,
On music's wing my heart convey,
Where southern stars in beauty glow,
And Egmont lifts her brow of snow.

Again I'll see our long lost home
Upon Wairoa's grassy plain;
Among the fern the cattle roam;
With idle rein upon his arm o'erthrown
The shepherd guards his flocks again,
And his shrill whistle with his dog's bark

As down the hill the woolly stream descends.

Or now, the early "muster" over,
With Jim and Tom I'm slowly riding
Through the home-paddock white with

And followed close by Nip and Rover,
Their warm allegiance now dividing,
For Tom's fair sisters here we meet,
And welcoming smiles their weary swains
do greet.

Here in the world's great heart abiding,
We two have left the happy isle ;
Australian grass Tom's face is hiding,
Jim in the spirit-land is riding.
From weary thoughts my heart beguile!
Sing, linnet, sing to me,
Sing my soul across the sea.

Yes! now my wings I feel,
Once more the isle I see ;
Let sleep my eyelids seal
While to those scenes I steal,
Borne thus on melody;

So sweetly you have sung to me,
Sung my soul across the sea.


O SHEPHERDS! take my crook from me,
For I no longer here can stay.
There comes a whisper from the sea,
Calling my soul from you away;
Friends of my heart! long tried and true,
O let me leave my crook with you.
An idle shepherd have I lain,
Dreaming while sheep-dogs barked in

Or chasing rhymes to wreathe the strain
Which from sweet musing grew.

Above the stars I drift in thought,
Melodious murmurings in my ears;
As though the upborne spirit caught
Soft echoes from the higher spheres.
But see! far up the azure height,
Bright Sirius hails me with his light!
My soul, impatient of delay,

Rides on the wings of thought away,
My heart alone with you can stay:
My Shepherds dear - Good night!

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