’Tis glorious morning everywhere <br />Save where the alleys lie— <br />I see the fleecy steam jets bid <br />“Good morning” to the sky. <br />The gullies of the waratah <br />Are near, with fall and pool, <br />And by the shadowed western rocks <br />The bays are fresh and cool. <br />To “points” that hint of Italy— <br />Of Italy and Spain— <br />I see the busy ferry boats <br />Come nosing round again. <br />To the toy station down below <br />I see the toy trains run— <br />(I wonder when those ferry boats <br />Will get their business done?) <br /> <br />Above the Bay called Lavender <br />This bard is domiciled, <br />Where up through rich, dark greenery <br />The red-tiled roofs are piled— <br />(At least some are—I hope that soon <br />They all shall be red-tiled)— <br />A moonlight night in middle-age <br />That makes one feel a child. <br /> <br />Close over, to the nearer left— <br />That feels the ocean breeze— <br />A full moon in a dim blue sky <br />A church spire and dark trees. <br />And, further right, the harsher heights <br />Of Mosman, Double Bay, <br />And Rose Bay, with their scattered lights, <br />Have softened with the day. <br /> <br />And fair across to where we know <br />The shelving sea cliffs are— <br />The lighthouse, with a still faint glow, <br />Beneath a twinkling star. <br />Across the harbour from the right, <br />And fairly in a line, <br />The Clock-tower on the City Hall, <br />A ship-mast and a pine. <br /> <br />The pale and bright, yet dusky blue, <br />And crossed by fleecy bars, <br />Flings out the brilliant city lights, <br />The moonlight and the stars— <br />And like a transformation scene, <br />On sheet glass down below, <br />The fairy-lighted ferry boats <br />Are gliding to and fro.<br /><br />Henry Lawson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/above-lavender-bay/
