CANTICLE
For the honey-coloured moon, and the shining host of stars,
And the sun's great golden targe,
And the luminous red leaves of the sapling gums in spring,
And the fen-lake's reed-grown marge:
May'st Thou who mad'st all things to be alive,
Thou who hast given the Senses Five,
Thou who hast portioned the Nights and Days,
Thou who hast given us lips for praise,
Be thanked, Lord God!
For the arrowy swift stream flowing silent in the shade
With its twisting waters green,
For the spray-dewed slender fern-fronds beside the cataract,
The wet black rocks between:
For the pine-tree like a church-spire, that grows upon the ridge,
For the lizard at its foot
That is quicker than a thought, yea, and greener than the moss
Growing round the great tree's root:
For the ocean stretching dark to the clear horizon-line,
For the one white distant sail,
For the ripple and the crisp and the calmness of the bay
With the tide-lines showing pale:
For the bright-eyed life astir in the grave depths of the bush,
For each glimpse of it we get;
For the pattering of rain when the tree-frogs chant in choir
And the glistening leaves are wet:
For the sea of tossing horns when the round-up's at an end,
For the thousand hoofs unshod;
For the blossoms and the bees and the floating butterflies
We thank Thee, O Lord God!
May'st 'Thou who mad'st all things to be alive,
Thou who hast given the Senses Five,
Thou who hast portioned the Nights and Days,
Thou who hast given us lips for praise,
Be thanked, Lord God!
Australia.