While The Billy BoilsSearchThe day is dying! The auspicious dayThat brought from human faith-fires of the NorthA living brand to flash from coast to coastAnd beacon Freedom in Australian skies —A levin torch to light the splendid pyreOf old dishonours and the blind unfaithThat bade man rend his brother — Lo! to-dayLeap high from altared Australasian hillsThe Freedom-fires no wrong shall quench again.
The day is dying! The reluctant dayThat bids us yield to sharper need than ours!Because of hope and strength made ours to guard,Because of vanquished error, justice won,Because of slave-souls pent in bars of greedUnnumbered still, in Liberty’s behest,Here in the red gold sunset of the dayHis message gladdened with diviner gold,We give him God-speed — God-speed and farewell.
As fared Ulysses forth, and in the dustTroy the accursed sank unto the plainSmoking to heaven — Forth, strong soul, fare forthTo victory of Right o’er Mammon-Might!Tho’ proud Oppression’s gates be Pole and Pole,Her boundaries cleave the Sunset and the Dawn,Her walls be Himalayahs — shall it reck?A lesser conquest then were flaming Troy;And Liberty? Star-Helen lesser prize !
Farewell! God-speed! And if perchance to eyesUnwonted spring grief’s quick unbidden tears,And tightened heartstrings ache — ’tis that the sense,The over-sense that caught some secret speech,Some song-snatch thro’ the sunset’s parted veilNo sense interprets, strikes our laughter dumb,And hushed we stand ALONE and face the greyOf all the twilights leaden merged in one;And in some caverned dusk of wistful windsInwoven with aeolian echoes hearA human song — nor thrush notes swelled so sweet,Nor nightingale sang ever yet so clearIn throbbing hush of an Italian night.
O Swan song sailing sunward, tho’ the darkFold thee in silence, yet the dark doth driftThro’ deeps o’ Dream toward Islands of the Dawn!