WHEN THE LIGHT IS AS DARKNESS by Harry ("Breaker") Morant

The morning-tide is fair and bright,
   With golden sun up-springing;
The cedars glowed in the new-born light,
   And the bell-bird's note was ringing;
While diamonds dropped by dusky Night,
   Were yet to the gidyas clinging.
 
The morning waned -- the sun rose high
   O'erhead, until 'twas seeming
But a dazzling disc, and the fiery sky
   Like an opal sea was gleaming;
And languorous flowers -- of morn gone by,
   And coming eve -- fell dreaming.
 
And now the moon above does creep
   To laugh at red Sol sinking;
While wakening from their sunlit sleep,
   A few wan stars are blinking,
And thirsty, drooping flowers deep
   Of evening dews are drinking.
 
The birds will soon their carols cease,
   And crows are homeward hieing;
The gloaming deepens, stars increase,
   The weary day is dying --
Its requiem, murmurous of peace,
   The vesper winds are, sighing.
 
This night is near!  Are you waiting friend,
   That Night? -- we're drawing nigh it --
When we to the Restful Land shall wend,
   And leave life's feverish riot --
When the gods to each tired soul shall send
   Eternal, dreamless quiet.

"The Breaker"
First published in The Bulletin, 27 August 1892, p17.