Walter Murdoch (1874–1970). The Oxford Book of Australasian Verse. 1918.
75. The Dream of the Children
T
While earth lay dewy and still:
They followed the rill in its gleaming
To the heart-light of the hill.
The world as they faded in sleep,
When they heard a music breaking
Out from the heart-light deep.
Under the star-light gay,
With wonderful colour was glowing
Like the bubbles they blew in their play.
Shot gleams of an opal star;
Its pathways of rainbow wonder
Rayed to their feet from afar.
It led through caverned aisles,
Filled with purple and green light and shadow
For mystic miles on miles.
To play on the hillside by day.
“But now,” they said, “we have only
To go where the good people stray.”
By the faery folk come again;
And down in the heart-light enchanted
Were opal-coloured men.
Without a squire or dame,
But they wore tiaras splendid
With feathers of starlight flame.
And called them into the heart.
“Come down here, each sleepless rover;
We will show you some of our art.”
The children sank at the call,
And stood in a blazing fountain
And never a mountain at all.
In many a shining strand,
For the opal fire-kings were blowing
The darkness out of the land.
To set a poet on fire;
And this was a cure for sadness,
And that the ease of desire.
“We will show yourselves for an hour.”
And the children were changed to a glory
By the beautiful magic of power.
And called them by olden names,
Till they towered like the starry races
All plumed with the twilight flames.
How the toil of ages oppressed,
And of how they best could weather
The ship of the world to its rest.
The children began to blink,
When they heard a far voice saying
“You can grow like that if you think.”
They tumbled out of the cot:
And half of the dream went with daylight
And half was never forgot.