'Tis a bright September morning, and Australia's golden Spring
Is awak'ning every flow'ret, and retouching every wing;
Everywhere the yellow blossoms of the wattle are in view—
Even has the solemn gum tree taken on a lighter hue;
And the earth is cover'd over with a vest of fresher green,
And the clear cool air adds brightness to the beauty of the scene.
Now the cockatoo's hoarse screaming, and the magpie's cheery call
Sound in chorus to the music of the plashy waterfall.
Overhead the deep, clear azure is just fleck'd with snowy clouds,
And the green and crimson parrots fly around in chatt'ring crowds;
Far away is all the bustle of the smoky, restless town,
And the timid kangaroo upon the grass lies fearless down;
Nature calmly lieth waiting, in her peaceful solitude,
For the dawning of the morning bright with hopes of future good:
Lies as she has lain for ages, by the white man's foot untrod,
Like a glorious new creation, freshly from the hand of God.
'Tis Australia's golden Springtime, and the vision, fresh and green,
Of the lonely, peaceful country, is a swiftly changing scene;
First a few white tents embosom'd 'mid the thickly growing trees,
And the sound of human labour floating on the passing breeze.
First a village—then a city—with an everswelling tide
Passing thro' its busy markets—stretching outwards far and wide;
And while the growing nation overspreads the smiling land,
Nature opens up her treasures with a free and lavish hand:
O'er the verdant fields are roaming flocks and herds of sheep and kine—
Deep beneath the sunlit surface works the toiler in the mine—
Education and religion build their temples o'er the plain,
And the iron horse moves swiftly past broad fields of golden grain,
Where a plenteous harvest ripens to reward the toiler's care,
And each honest, willing worker may obtain a rightful share.
Blessed peace and glorious freedom banish far the warrior's sword—
Fancy seems to gaze enraptur'd on a Paradise restored!
'Tis the Springtime of Australia, and the dazzled eye may see
Wondrous dreams of future greatness—of the glories yet to be:
Visions—not of martial conquest—not of courage, blood and fire—
But of lands by noble actions growing greater, grander, higher!
Of the wond'ring nations turning—gazing with expectant eyes,
While oppress'd and toiling millions feel new hopes and thoughts arise
In the march of human progress as Australia leads the van
To the world's great Federation, and the "parliament of Man!"
Such the triumphs—aye, and grander, that the coming days shall see
If Australia but be faithful to her glorious destiny;
With the smile of Heav'n upon her in the future, as the past,
Sweeping back the threat'ning war-clouds that her sky may overcast—
Like a stately white-wing'd vessel she shall keep her steadfast way—
Peace, o'er all her wide dominions, ruling with unbroken sway;
And her progress be continued till the wings of Time are furled—
Her glorious page the brightest in the history of the world!