October Morning by Kathleen Dalziel

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Above the golden meadow  
   Crying his joy aloud,
The skylark is a shadow
   That slants across a cloud,
A very little shadow upon a vasty cloud

That leans against the splendid  
   Blue battlements of day,  
In sunny airs suspended,  
   As silver-white as spray,
As white as are the tea-tree buds  
   On frosted branch and spray.

The soft October morning  
   Is mantled like a bride;  
For, mile on mile adorning  
   The scented countryside,  
The tea-tree strews a million stars
   Along the countryside.

The pines put forth new candles,
   New gum-tip tapers burn,
A march of golden vandals
   Among the bracken fern,  
The capeweed's countless hordes invade
   The hillsides and the fern.

This soft October morning
   Shall have its way, and I,  
My petty troubles scorning,  
   Shall turn and put them by.
Be glad with all the golden day  
   And let the world go by.

First published in The Sydney Morning Herald, 30 October 1937

Author reference site: Austlit

See also.

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This page contains a single entry by Perry Middlemiss published on October 30, 2014 7:58 AM.

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