With Earth’s whole bulk between us, I, a child
Of the Far South, remembring with what glee
Of sacred fellowship my Soul, beguiled
By thy wise wonder-dreams, hath grown to be,
Even from the burthen of its mystery,
Happier;—if aught upon these “Thoughts” hath smiled
Of the true light of Spiritual Passion, mild
Though mighty,—I would point that Light to thee.
And haply that thy glorious head might bend
Approvingly, awhile, over the Wreath
Which from my native Wilderness I send—
This swelling Hope within my heart did breathe
So fervently, that kneeling, lo, beneath
Australia’s Heaven, these Votive Lines I penned.
Other works by Charles Harpur...
