I know that the tawny grass of the plain
    Is blown like the sea to-day
By the wind that follows the autumn rain
    And chases the clouds away,

And ruffles the winding lagoon, and now
    The sky’s blue, dewy and clean,
Will show in the lee where the rushes bow
    Like shattered aquamarine.

To-day, when the cranes in their grey and pink
    Fish solemnly in the weeds,
To-day, when the cattle come down to drink
    And push through the whispering reeds,
I stand there and watch them, in Culgai too,
    And they do not heed or fear;
There is not one lark in the radiant blue
    Whose carol I do not hear.

This morning the wind on the grasses brown
    Blows tingling and sweet and rare;
Now though my body must tarry in town
    Thank God that my soul is there!