Many a wind is blowing, .
Our from the weary West,
Many a wave is chasing
Opaline crest on crest ;
Many a ship is sailing
Over the Austral tide,
And all to-night, like a white moth's flight,
Are bound for the Sydney side.

Many a sweet remembrance
In through my tent-door trips.
Many a shade from the days that were,
With a message upon its lips
Many a sound of laughter,
Many a heartfelt sigh,
Come on the breeze, from the Eastern seas,
?Where the light and the shadows lie.

But there's little time for sighing,
And less for a man to weep,
When you're delving far 'neath a sinking star,
Down where the gold lies deep.
Toil, while the fates are watching !
Fail at the task again !
But work and wait at the outer gate
Such are the lives of men.

Little of time for sighing,
Here, while the shadows creep.
And bright stars shine in the secret mine,
Down where the heart depths sleep.
Season and sense will waver,
Whisper, and pass me by.
For my heart has hied to the Sydney side,
Where the light and the shadows lie.

More verses by John Philip Bourke