HOPE
Spring sat bright on the hill-top. The pines were lit with her candles,
Glittering-tipt were the gum-trees, the gorse, thick-golden with blossom,
Laugh’d to the laughing Blue. Below, the paddocks were grassy,
Wide was the plain and green, the ribboning river was azure,
White lambs raced in the paddocks, little white clouds in the sky,
And, deep in the plain, up-tossing like tresses her radiant smoke-curls,
From a luminous veil of vapour, the enchantress City bloom’d out—
Her walls as of glass and gold, her windows flashing like eyes.
To the right, like a broad blue sun, sparkled and flash’d the Ocean,
To the left, by winter refresh’d, ran a long white splendour of snow-peaks.
—Ay, once more it was Spring! once more, in spite of the struggle,
Traffic, tempests, and toil, decay and destruction, of ages,
New again, fresh as a child! lovely with light and delighting,
Old Earth uplifted a joyful face to the glad warm kisses of Heaven.
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