While I was ill how green have grown the poinsetta leaves,
And a wee bird has built a nest among the vine clasped eaves.
The red geraniums flank the walks, the pine tress climb the hill,
And all the world has been renewed -- since I was ill!
How vivid are the summer skies, how white the long low fence,
How distant grows the beckoning hand that almost drew me hence;
The scent of roses is so sweet -- it seems the world to fill:
I never knew how I loved life -- till I was ill!
In the far paddocks over there the wattle is in flower;
Perhaps I shall walk there some day, and dream away an hour,
To leave the four grey walls behind and climb the grassy hill;
How precious grows the outside world -- since I was ill!
How nice it is to see a face I used to think grown cold
Smile on me, gladden me once more as in morns of old.
I did not know I held a place no other could fill:
I did not know they wanted me -- till I fell ill!
First published in Steele Rudd's Magazine, 7 May 1904
