On that bold hill, against a broad blue stream, <br />stood Arthur Phillip on a day of dream; <br />what time the mists of morning westward rolled <br />and heaven flowered on a bay of gold. <br />Here, in the hour that shines and sounds afar, <br />flamed first Old England's banner like a star; <br />Here in a time august with prayer and praise, <br />was born the nation of these splendid days, <br />and here, this land's majestic yesterday <br />of immemorial silence died away<br /><br />Henry Kendall<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-day-of-dream/
