BUSH BALLADS AND RHYMES 



Then skies were fairer and shores were 

 firmer — 



The blue sea over the bright sand roll'd ; 

 Babble and prattle, and ripple and murmur, 



Sheen of silver and glamour of gold — 

 And the sunset bath'd in the gulf to lend her 

 A garland of pinks and of purples tender, 

 A tinge of the sun-god's rosy splendour, 



A tithe of his glories manifold. 



Man's works are graven, cunning and skilful 

 On earth where his tabernacles are ; 



But the sea is wanton, the sea is wilful, 

 And who shall mend her and who shall mar? 



Shall we carve success or record disaster 



On her bosom of heaving alabaster ? 



Will her purple pulse beat fainter or faster 

 For fallen sparrow or fallen star ? 



I would that with sleepy soft embraces 

 The sea would fold me — would find me rest 



In luminous shades of her secret places, 

 In depths where her marvels are manifest ; 



So the earth beneath her should not discover 



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