From the Forests
— * Introductory verses for “The Sydney University Review”, 1881. —
Where in a green, moist, myrtle dellThe torrent voice rings strongAnd clear, above a star-bright well,I write this woodland song.
The melodies of many leavesFloat in a fragrant zone;And here are flowers by deep-mossed eavesThat day has never known.
I’ll weave a garland out of these,The darlings of the birds,And send it over singing seasWith certain sunny words—
With certain words alive with lightOf welcome for a thingOf promise, born beneath the white,Soft afternoon of Spring.
The faithful few have waited longA life like this to see;And they will understand the songThat flows to-day from me.
May every page within this bookBe as a radiant hour;Or like a bank of mountain brook,All flower and leaf and flower.
May all the strength and all the graceOf Letters make it beamAs beams a lawn whose lovely faceIs as a glorious dream.
And may that strange divinityThat men call Genius writeSome deathless thing in days to be,To fill those days with light.
Here where the free, frank waters run,I pray this book may growA sacred candour like the sunAbove the morning snow.
May noble thoughts in faultless words—In clean white diction—makeIt shine as shines the home of birdsAnd moss and leaf and lake.
This fair fresh life with joy I hail,And this belief express,Its days will be a brilliant taleOf effort and success.
Here ends my song; I have a dreamOf beauty like the graceWhich lies upon the land of streamIn yonder mountain place.