Poems (Storrie)/Sydney in August

by Agnes Louisa Storrie

Sydney in August.

The drenched earth is very quiet,
Oh! but soon the green will riot,
Every little weed be lifted
With a dower of blossom gifted,
And the honey-eaters nesting,
All their capital investing,
Watch the first boronias coming,
Hear the first bees gaily humming;
Keen and clear the young stars glitter,
If the frost came 'twould be bitter,
But the sun hath golden treasure,
He will pay, all at his leisure
Winter's last cold-blooded charges,
Small accounts that spite enlarges,
And the Spring's first lavish payment
For her green and golden raiment.
He is king, and all shall know it,
He hath regal signs to show it,
Though the mountains still are rebels,
And the white surf scolds the pebbles,
Though the sulky sea-fogs linger,
When he lifts his shining finger,
Such a spell of love is in it
They'll surrender in a minute.