THE BUSHBy James Lister CuthbertsonGIVE us from dawn to darkBlue of Australian skies,Let there be none to markWhither our pathway lies.

Give us when noontide comesRest in the woodland free—Fragrant breath of the gums,Cold, sweet scent of the sea.

Give us the wattle’s goldAnd the dew-laden air,And the loveliness boldLoneliest landscapes wear.

These are the haunts we love,Glad with enchanted hours,Bright as the heavens above,Fresh as the wild bush flowers.

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