Walter Murdoch (1874–1970). The Oxford Book of Australasian Verse. 1918.
94. The Golden Age
W
And the wild sweet stars have fled,
By the faery hands that love us
Wakened you and I will tread
Shine with all their silver dews,
In the stillness of a dawn
Wrapped in tender primrose hues.
That the earth croons in her breast,
Echoed by the feathered throng
Joyous from each leafy nest.
With her heart’s deep gladness fills
All our human lips can say,
Or the dawn-fired singer trills.
As her clouds of beauty pass,
On our glowing hearts they shine,
Mirrored there as in a glass.
From our flowery paths shall flit,
And the dawn begin the day,
We will sing that song to it
Oh, we are so glad of youth,
Whose first sweetness never dies
Nourished by eternal truth.