Would I yield the future’s promise in the mould of progress cast;
Still, a fading fancy lingers, while the touch of gentle fingers
Moves aside the sombre curtain that was drawn across the past.
Come the fairy visions winging, come the laughter and the singing,
But the shadows fall around me and the echo dies in pain;
Yet I’d feel the wings that bore me when the world was all before me,
Could I hear the kookaburras once again.
COME, SING AUSTRALIAN SONGS TO ME!
Come, Little One, and sing to me
A song our big wide land to bless,