Walter Murdoch (1874–1970). The Oxford Book of Australasian Verse. 1918.

171. Content

WHO are exiles? As for me

Where beneath the diamond dome

Lies the light on hill or tree,

There my palace is and home.

Who are lonely lacking care?

Here the winds are living, press

Close on bosom, lips and hair—

Well I know their soft caress.

Sad or fain no more to live?

I have pressed the lips of pain;

With the kisses lovers give,

Ransomed ancient joys again.

Captive? See what stars give light

In the hidden heart of clay:

At their radiance dark and bright

Fades the dreamy king of day.

Night and day no more eclipse

Friendly eyes that on us shine,

Speech from old familiar lips

Playmates of a youth divine.

Come away, O, come away;

We will quench the heart’s desire

Past the gateways of the day

In the rapture of the fire.