Lake Macquarie History

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