To nature lovers
To those who woo the mystic muse
Created in Elysian ways,
Whose soul uplifts at birth of flowers
At song of birds from leafy bowers,
Who love to roam the moorland's space
The woodlands depths, the meadow's grace.
Or by some rippling, murmuring stream,
Or golden sands to rest and dream,
To marvel at the rock pools where
Grow feathered weeds in colours rare,
And tiny fish both sport and play
In garments that are rich and gay.
To stand in awe when ocean curls
And fumes and frets earth to unfurl.
Or smile in summer's glowful heat
When laves the billows at our feet.
Who loves to feel the swish of wind
Like wine rejuvenates the mind.
To feel so glad when springtime's here
To chase the gloom of winter drear.
When primrose, daisy, daffodil
Brings to the heart a joyous thrill.
Or skylark, thrush, or blackbird's lay
Brings happiness each dawn of day.
To watch the monarch of the east
Rise from his bed, a royal feast
Who spreads his colours, splendid, rare
In glorious patterns everywhere.
When poppies in their regal red
Rise from their lowly earthly bed
To blow and spread their scarlet flame
And scatter seeds to earth again.
When leaping trout in Gurgling stream
Contentment brings with pleasant dreams.
Who, when the copper tinted sprays
Of gum tips in the breeze doth sway
To give a restful lullaby
To hearts bereft and turn with sighs.
Who feel the joy of peace and rest
At sight of wren's or white eye's nest.
Who joys when gently rising moon
Lights up the forests 'circling gloom.
And when the stars begin to peep
Think of a tired each, asleep.
Who wander this fair earth around
And know that beauty still abounds.
In earth, and sky and sea beneath
In humans, forests, birds and beasts
In laughter, music, falling rain,
At harvest time in golden grain
In flowers that in the garden bloom
Or falling twilight's gentle gloom.
Who minister in time of need
To fallen humans, broken reeds
Of Universe's vaster plan
Than ere the mind of man can span.
To those who woo the mystic muse
Created in Elysian ways,
My greetins, nature loving friends
On this first day - till journey's end.
Thompson Noble.
1.1.1932
This work by Lake Macquarie City Library is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License