#AustralianWriters
Was it the sun that broke my dream or was’t the dazzle of thy hair caught where our olden meadows see… themselves again and yet more fair… Ah, sun that woke me, limpid strea…
The winter eve is clear and chill: the world of air is folded still; the quiet hour expects the moon; and yon my home awaits me soon behind the panes that come and go
Sweet days of breaking light, or yet the shadowy might and blaze of starry strife possess’d my life; sweet dawn of Beauty’s day,
Dies Dominica! the sunshine burns strong incense on the breathing fi… lucid, intense, all colour towards… that souls of flowers on the air a… What claustral joy to-day is on th…
Fire in the heavens, and fire alon… and fire made solid in the flinty… thick-mass’d or scatter’d pebble,… the breathless hour that lives in… This valley, long ago the patient…
When the spring mornings grew more… early I woke from dream that told of dreaded parting and the cold of the gray dawns when I should lo… to see once more that clear light…
Sweet silence after bells! deep in the enamour’d ear soft incantation dwells. Filling the rapt still sphere a liquid crystal swims,
Fire in the heavens, and fire alon… and fire made solid in the flinty… thick-massed or scattered pebble,… the breathless hour that lives in… This valley, long ago the patient…
And does she still perceive, her c… white fields, where maiden Dawn is anguish’d with the untold appro… or in the wooing forenoon softly p… where of our little friends
Autumn: the year breathes dully to… beside its dying sacrificial fire; the dim world’s middle-age of vain… is strangely troubled, waiting for… that speaks the winter’s welcome m…
Spring-ripple of green along the w… keen plash of aery waves that play… and in my heart thy dreamy smart, O distant day! Oh whisper hidden in the spring
White dawn, that tak’st the heaven… of amorous artifice, art thou the bearer of my perfect… divine, untrod, from some forgotten window of Para…
The tuberose thickens the air: a s… lies close on open’d calyx and sli… thro’ all the garden bosom-bound b… dense night that hangs, her own pe… no star: and heaven and earth, see…
Dead stars, beneath the midnight’s… and round your dungeon-gulf that b… and fall not, since no lower than… needs when the wing is dash’d and… is this your shadow on the watcher…
O WHITE wind, numbing the world to a mask of suffering hate! and thy goblin pipes have skirl’… all night, at my broken gate. O heart, be hidden and kept