Poems and Songs
by Henry Kendall
CONTENTS
THE MUSE OF AUSTRALIA
..
3
MOUNTAINS
..
3
KIAMA
..
6
ETHELINE
..
7
AILENE
..
9
KOOROORA
..
11
FAINTING BY THE WAY
..
12
SONG OF THE CATTLE-HUNTERS
..
14
FOOTFALLS
..
15
GOD HELP OUR MEN AT SEA
..
16
SITTING BY THE FIRE
..
17
BELLAMBI'S MAID
..
20
THE CURLEW SONG
..
21
THE BALLAD OF TANNA
..
22
THE RAIN COMES SOBBING DO THE DOOR
..
23
URARA
..
25
EVENING HYMN
..
26
STANZAS
..
27
THE WAIL IN THE NATIVE OAK
..
27
HARPS WE LOVE
..
30
WAITING AND WISHING
..
30
THE WILD KANGAROO
..
31
CLARI
..
33
WOLLONGONG
..
33
ELLA WITH THE SHINING HAIR
..
35
THE BARCOO
..
37
BELLS BEYOND THE FOREST
..
37
ULMARRA
..
40
THE MAID OF GERRINGONG
..
41
WATCHING
..
45
THE OPOSSUM-HUNTERS
..
46
IN THE DEPTHS OF A FOREST
..
47
TO CHARLES HARPUR
..
48
THE RIVER AND THE HILL
..
49
THE FATE OF THE EXPLORERS
..
50
LURLINE
..
53
UNDER THE FIGTREE
..
54
DROWNED AT SEA
..
54
MORNING IN THE BUSH
..
56
THE GIRL I LEFT BEHIND ME
..
58
AMONGST THE ROSES
..
59
SUNSET
..
60
DOUBTING
..
61
GERALDINE
..
62
ACHAN
..
63
POEMS AND SONGS
Page: 3
THE MUSE OF AUSTRALIA
WHERE the pines with the eagles are nestled in rifts,
And the
torrent leaps down to the surges,
I have followed her,
clambering over the clifts,
By the chasms and moon-haunted verges.
I know she is fair as the angels are fair,
For have I not caught a faint
glimpse of her there;
A
glimpse of her face and her glittering hair,
And a hand with the Harp of Australia?
I never can reach you, to hear the sweet voice
So full with the music of fountains!
Oh! when will you meet with that soul of your choice,
Who will lead you down here from the mountains?
A lyre-bird lit on a shimmering space;
It dazzled mine eyes and I turned from the place,
And wept in the dark for a
glorious face,
And a hand with the Harp of Australia!
MOUNTAINS
RIFTED mountains, clad with forests, girded round by gleaming pines,
Where the morning, like an angel, robed in golden splendour shines;
Shimmering mountains, throwing
downward on the slopes a mazy glare
Where the
noonday glory sails through gulfs of calm and glittering air;
Stately mountains, high and hoary, piled with blocks of amber cloud,
Where the fading
twilight lingers, when the winds are wailing loud;
Grand old mountains, overbeetling brawling brooks and deep ravines,
Where the moonshine, pale and
mournful, flows on rocks and evergreens.
Page: 4
Underneath these regal ridges -
underneath the gnarly trees,
I am sitting,
lonely-hearted, listening to a
lonely breeze!
Sitting by an ancient
casement, casting many a
longing look
Out across the hazy gloaming - out beyond the brawling brook!
Over pathways leading skyward - over crag and swelling cone,
Past long hillocks looking like to waves of ocean turned to stone;
Yearning for a bliss unworldly, yearning for a brighter change,
Yearning for the
mystic Aidenn, built beyond this mountain range.
Happy years,
amongst these valleys, happy years have come and gone,
And my
youthful hopes and friendships withered with them one by one;
Days and moments
bearingonward many a bright and
beauteous dream,
All have passed me like to sunstreaks flying down a distant stream.
Oh, the love returned by loved ones! Oh, the faces that I knew!
Oh, the wrecks of fond affection! Oh, the hearts so warm and true!
But their voices I remember, and a something lingers still,
Like a dying echo roaming sadly round a far off hill.
I would
sojourn here
contented,
tranquil as I was of yore,
And would never wish to
clamber, seeking for an unknown shore;
I have dwelt within this
cottage twenty summers, and mine eyes
Never wandered erewhile round in search of undiscovered skies;
But a spirit sits beside me, veiled in robes of dazzling white,
And a dear one's
whisper wakens with the symphonies of night;
And a low sad music cometh, borne along on windy wings,
Like a
strain familiar rising from a maze of slumbering springs.
And the Spirit, by my window, speaketh to my
restless soul,
Telling of the clime she came from, where the silent moments roll;
Telling of the bourne
mysterious, where the sunny summers flee
Cliffs and coasts, by man untrodden, ridging round a shipless sea.
Page: 5
There the years of yore are
blooming - there
departed life-dreams dwell,
There the faces beam with
gladness that I loved in youth so well;
There the songs of
childhood travel, over wave-worn steep and strand -
Over dale and
upland stretching out behind this mountain land.
``Lovely Being, can a
mortal, weary of this changeless scene,