"When I was quite a child — not so many moons ago —
A happy little maiden — O, then it was not so;
Like a sunny-dancing wavelet then I sparkled to and fro;
And I never had this feeling — O, this sad, sweet pain!
"I think it must be owing to the idle life I lead
In the dreamy house for ever that this new bosom-weed
Has sprouted up and spread its shoots till it troubles me indeed
With a restless, weary feeling — such a sad, sweet pain!
"So in this pleasant islet, O, no longer will I stay —
And the shadowy summer dwelling I will leave this very day;
On Arapa I'll launch my skiff, and soon be borne away
From all that feeds this feeling — O, this fond, sweet pain!
"I'll go and see dear Rima — she'll welcome me, I know,
And a flaxen cloak — her gayest — o'er my weary shoulders throw,
With purfle red and points so free — O, quite a lovely show —
To charm away this feeling — O, this sad, sweet pain!
"Two feathers I will borrow, and so gracefully I'll wear
Two feathers soft and snowy, for my long, black, lustrous hair.
Of the albatross's down they'll be — O, how charming they'll look there —
All to chase away this feeling — O, this fond, sweet pain!
"Then the lads will flock around me with flattering talk all day —
And, with anxious little pinches, sly hints of love convey;
And I shall blush with happy pride to hear them, I daresay,
And quite forget this feeling — O, this sad, sweet pain!"
James Brunton Stephens.
The Dominion of Australia
(A Forecast, 1877)
She is not yet; but he whose ear
Thrills to that finer atmosphere
Where footfalls of appointed things,
Reverberant of days to be,
Are heard in forecast echoings,
Like wave-beats from a viewless sea —
Hears in the voiceful tremors of the sky
Auroral heralds whispering, "She is nigh."