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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=339777" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On Australian Hills</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Earth, outward tuning on her path in space <br> This pensive southern face, <br> Swathing its smile and shine <br>In that soft veil that day and darkness twine, <br>The silver-threaded twilight thin and fine, <br> With April dews impearled, <br>Looms like another and diviner world. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Here April brings her garnered harvest-sheaf, <br> Her withered autumn leaf, <br> Tintings of bronze and brass; <br>Her full-plumed reeds, her mushroom in the grass, <br>Her furrowed fields, where plough and sower pass, <br> Her laden apple bough. <br>All are transfigured and transmuted now. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>The eastward ranges, so unearthly blue, <br> Bloom with their richest hue; <br> Slowly each rose-flushed crest <br>Deepens to violet where the shadows rest, <br>Darkens and darkens to the paling west; <br> The waning sun-fires die; <br>The first star swims in the pellucid sky. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Soundless to listening ear, on grass and flowers, <br> The footfall of the hours; <br> Formless and void to sight <br>The evolutions of invading night, <br>The creeping onslaught and the gradual flight, <br> Until the field is won, <br>And we look forth to see that day is done. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Then, from their grave of darkness, wood and lawn <br> Wake to a second dawn. <br> From unseen wells below <br>The pearly moon-tides rise and overflow, <br>Till vale and peak and wide air-spaces glow <br> In the transfiguring stream, <br>And earth and life are but a heavenly dream. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>And now we hear the fairy-echoes fall <br> Where distant curlews call, <br> And how the silence thrills <br>With the night-voices of the glens and hills, <br>Rustling in reeds and tinkling in the rills, <br> Bubbling in creek and pool <br>Where frogs are wooing in the shallows cool. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>And more than these, in this delicious time, <br> The melody sublime <br> That inward spirit hears-- <br>The faint and far-off music of the spheres, <br>Immortal harmonies, too fine for ears <br> Dulled in the dusty ways, <br>Deaf with the din of the laborious days. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Whereto, responsive as the vibrant wire <br> Of some aeolian lyre <br> Fanned by celestial wings, <br>The summoned soul in mystic concord brings <br>The deep notes latent in its trembling strings, <br> Joining the choir divine <br>Of all the worlds that in the ether shine. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>O sacred hour! O sweet night, calm and fair! <br> Thou dost rebuke despair; <br> Thou dost assuage the pain <br>Of passionate spirit and distempered brain, <br>And with thy balms, distilled like gentle rain, <br> Dost heal the fret and smart <br>And nerve the courage of this coward's heart. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>And lift me up, a Moses on the Mount <br> To the pure source and fount <br> Of law transcending law, <br>Of life that hallows life. I know no more <br>Of life's great Giver than I knew before, <br> But these His creatures tell <br>That He is living, and that all is well. <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Oh, to be there to-night! <br>To see that rose of sunset flame and fade <br> On ghostly mountain height, <br>The soft dusk gathering each leaf and blade <br> From the departing light, <br>Each tree-fern feather of the wildwood glade. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> From arid streets to pass <br>Down those green aisles where golden wattles bloom, <br> Over the fragrant grass, <br>And smell the eucalyptus in a gloom <br> That is as clear as glass, <br>The dew-fresh scents of bracken and of broom . . . </div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"> These city clamours mute, <br>To hear the woodland necromancers play <br> Each his enchanted lute; <br>That dear bird-laugh, so exquisitely gay, <br> The magpie's silver flute <br>In vesper carol to the dying day. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> To hear the live wind blow, <br>The delicate stir and whisper of the trees <br> As light breaths come and go, <br>The brooklet murmuring to the vagrant breeze, <br> The bull-frog twanging low <br>His deep-toned mandolin to chime with these. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And then the whispering rills, <br>The hushed lone wheel, or hoof, or axeman's tool; <br> The brooding dark that stills <br>The sweet Pan-piping of the grove and pool; <br> The dimly glimmering hills; <br>The sleeping night, so heavenly clean and cool. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Oh, for that mother-breast <br>That takes the broken spirit for repair, <br> The worn-out brain for rest-- <br>That healing silence, that untainted air, <br> That Peace of God . . . . . . Blest, blest <br>The very memory that I once was there. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> The thought that someday yet, <br>In flesh, not dreams, I may return again, <br> And at those altars, set </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>In the pure skies, above the smoky plain, <br> Remember and forget <br>The joy of living and its price of pain . . . . . . </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> That sullied earth reserves <br>Such spacious refuge virgin and apart, <br> That wasting life preserves <br>Such sweet retreat for the distracted heart, <br> Such fount of strength for nerves <br>Torn in the ruthless struggle of the mart . . . . . . </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> That Government divine <br>O'er all this reek of blunders and of woes <br> Keeps an unravaged shrine <br>Not here, not there, but in the souls of those <br> Who neither weep nor whine, <br>But trust the guidance of the One Who Knows.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ada+Cambridge">Ada Cambridge</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=339777" data-title="On Australian Hills de Ada Cambridge" data-description="Earth, outward tuning on her path in space 
 This pensive southern face, 
 Swathing its smile and shine 
In that soft veil that day and darkness twine, 
The silver-threaded twilight thin and fine, 
 With April dews impearled, 
Looms like another a..."></div>
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