What the Overseer Told Me.
126
And one evening, when shadows were flitting across the great grey silent sky,
And the whole earth was still, we were sitting there smoking, old Chapman and I,
A creeper trailed pale yellow blossoms all up the verandah post tall,
We heard the soft nibbling of 'possums in a wattle tree close to the wall,
The lamplight fell white like a river of light, through the door opened wide
There came a soft violin quiver—Marquita was singing inside—
Her gown in its exquisite whiteness, her smile and the gleam of her hair
Seemed all just a part of the brightness surrounding her everywhere.
All at once I saw something come sliding up through the bushes, and knew
It was Billy come back, softly gliding with naked feet over the dew.
He stole to the window and listened, his face full of wondering awe,
I saw his black eyes as they glistened, he thought 'twas a spirit he saw.
And the whole earth was still, we were sitting there smoking, old Chapman and I,
A creeper trailed pale yellow blossoms all up the verandah post tall,
We heard the soft nibbling of 'possums in a wattle tree close to the wall,
The lamplight fell white like a river of light, through the door opened wide
There came a soft violin quiver—Marquita was singing inside—
Her gown in its exquisite whiteness, her smile and the gleam of her hair
Seemed all just a part of the brightness surrounding her everywhere.
All at once I saw something come sliding up through the bushes, and knew
It was Billy come back, softly gliding with naked feet over the dew.
He stole to the window and listened, his face full of wondering awe,
I saw his black eyes as they glistened, he thought 'twas a spirit he saw.
