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At Sunset.
100
You start and you tremble, Emily,
At sudden, wild shrieks overhead—
Only a cockatoo flying,
With wide, white wings outspread.

Then, perched on the highest gum tree,
Outlined by the glowing west,
You will see a curving pinion
And an upright, yellow crest.

Many a time, my Emily,
We have watched the daylight fade
Till, softly, evening wrapped us
In cool, grey swathes of shade.

Never a friend like you, Emily,
Never a heart so true,
Not all the wise men of the east, dear,
Were half so wise as you.

A man may be glum or merry,
Or foolish or overwise,
But with all his moods and tenses
You silently sympathise.