Dowell O'Reilly: Verses about Water

Along the serried coast the Southerly raves,
Grey birds scream landward through the distance hoar,
And, swinging from the dim confounded shore,
The everlasting boom of broken waves

Like muffled thunder rolls about the graves
Of all the wonder-lands and lives of yore,
Whose bones asunder bleach for evermore,
In sobbing chasms and under choking caves:

O breaking heart—whose only rest is rage,
White tossing arms, and lips that kiss and part
In lonely dreams of love's wild ecstasy,

Not the mean earth thy suffering can assuage
Nor highest heaven fulfil thy hungry heart,
O fair full-bosomed passionate weeping sea.

Like summer waves on sands of snow,
Soft ringlets clasp her neck and brow,
And wandering breezes kiss away
A threaded light of glimmering spray,
That drifts and floats and softly flies
In a golden mist about her eyes.
Her laugh is fresh as foam that springs
Through tumbling shells and shining things,
And where the gleaming margin dries
Is heard the music of her sighs.
Her gentle bosom ebbs and swells
With the tide of life that deeply wells
From a throbbing heart that loves to break
In the tempest of love for love's sweet sake.
O, the fragrance of earth, and the song of the sea,
And the light of the heavens, are only three
Of the thousand glories that Love can trace,
In her life, and her soul, and her beautiful face.

This tangled weed of poesy,
Torn from the heart of a stormy sea,
I fling upon the love divine
Of her, who fills this heart of mine.

WHAT can we give in return
For her beauty and mystery
Of flowering forest, infinite plain,
Deep sky and distant mountain-chain,
And her triumphant sea,
Thundering old songs of liberty?

Love—steadfast as her stars,
And passionate as her sun,
And joyous as the winds, that fling
The golden petals of her spring
By gully, spur, and run,
On dreaming age, and little one:

Courage—when courage fails
In the blind smoke and pain
Of raging fire, and lurid sky,
And dumb thirst-driven agony—
Till river and creek again
Swirl seaward through the teeming rain.

Faith—wild flower of the soul,
Thrilling the breathless night
With fragrance, and the desolate ways
Where silence fears to whisper praise,
With radiant delight
Of wonder—worship in God’s sight.

Duty—O great white stars,
And glorious red cross, shine
On victory, when, rushing forth
Against the peril of the North,
Australia’s battle-line
Flings out Trafalgar’s deathless sign.