June 20, 2019


Here in the leisure

Of this hour I write,

Who once must seize the hasty measure

In its flight.

Now may I, dreaming,

Dip into the deep,

And trawl the thought, that still broodsteeming,

From its sleep.

And thou, my country!

We who were too young

To praise thee, singing, as the wintry

Lands are sung.

Now leave the callow

Rhythms of youth behind,

And sing thee from the ripened fallow

Of the mind!

We were so young we

Knew thee not, and feared

The fuller note we might have sung thee

And endeared:

And thou wast stranger,

Too, and young – how young!

Thought – lowly born in history’s manger,

O unsung!

2 thoughts on “‘AUSTRALIA’: MARY GILMORE

  1. Not bad.

    I prefer The Alleys by Henry Lawson.

    Ah! The world is very rotten
    But my sins shall be forgotten
    And my work shall be remembered
    when the alleys beat their drums..

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