A Singer of the Bush
From Wikisource
| A Singer of the Bush by |
There is a waving of grass in the breeze
And a song in the air,
And a murmur of myriad bees
That toil everywhere.
There is scent in the blossom and bough,
And the breath of the Spring
Is as soft as a kiss on a brow --
And Springtime I sing.
There is drought on the land, and the stock
Tumble down in their tracks
Or follow -- a tottering flock --
The scrub-cutter's axe.
While ever a creature survives
The axes shall swing;
We are fighting with fate for their lives --
And the combat I sing.
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This text was created in Australia and is now in the public domain because its term of copyright has expired. See Australian Copyright Council (ACC), (How Long Copyright Lasts) (Apr 2009). |
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