Queen Street at 1.55 p.m. by Mabel Forrest

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There they hurry to office and shop;
Girls in navy, and green, and red, 
Worn old men in their overalls,
Young men laughing. And not one notes
They are pixy led!

Here, by a dream of a handsome swain,
There by the lure of gold;
Here by a triumph in sport or love, 
On a stake that is brave and bold.

The motors hoot, and the trams clang by,
And high on my balcony
I know that they follow the calling note
Of a piper they cannot see!

A feather of gold in his cap of green, 
His feet leave no print behind. 
But he beckons them on to a rainbow bridge
In the way of the driving wind! 

Ladies in silk and furs and gems;
Lean charwomen in thread-bare capes; 
Stout employer, pale unemployed,
Twittering tune for them all he makes! 

For he is the colour of Hope and Joy-- 
Of all that they cannot reach.
He pipes of the gate to a promised land,
And he fashions his tune for each!

When the chimes are trembling against the hour
They pass. . . (And a dream goes, too.) 
Crafty old men, and careless young-- 
For the piper pipes on a song unsung, 
And he makes it all seem true!

First published in The Courier-Mail, 2 September 1933

Author reference sites: AustlitAustralian Dictionary of Biography

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