George Essex Evans: Всі вірші поета

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Whisper, O wings of the wind! Sing me your song, O sea!

Grey is the weary world, and grey is the heart of me!

Into my shadowy heart pierce like the star of old,

Pearl of the tender dawn, kissed by the trembling gold!

Sing me the hope made sure, sing me the heart made strong!

Give me the battle-fire, give me the bugle-song

Onward ever and on, O swift, green bird of the sun;

Ever a vaster goal for the goal that thy wings have won.

They left the vine-wreathed cottage and the mansion on the hill,

The houses in the busy streets where life is never still,

The pleasures of the city, and the friends they cherished best:

For love they faced the wilderness -the Women of the West.

The roar, and rush, and fever of the city died away,

And the old-time joys and faces-they were gone for many a day;

In their place the lurching coach-wheel, or the creaking bullock-chains,

O'er the everlasting sameness of the never-ending plains.