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  ― 107 ―

Kurraba

WAS it fairies flung a ladder for our feet upon the hill?
Was it only wooden worn steps that climbed to Heaven's sill?
Or a rosary of old beads?.… I count and kiss them still;
Kurraba by the North Shore blue!

Lantana on the red rocks and stars above the town,
Hibiscus was a king's cup, where souls of men might drown;
But the trailing morning glory it was Mary's holy gown,
At Kurraba by the North Shore blue!

Was it graven lapis lazuli we trod beneath our feet?
Or did we only sleep and dream we felt God's pulses beat,
And heard His golden throated ones go singing down the street
At Kurraba by the North Shore blue!

O casement where the winds sang of wide enchanted seas,
Till Zamboanga, Nagasak, were hazed Hesperides,
And the fleets of dream came sailing home a cloud of golden bees
To Kurraba by the North Shore blue!

Oh, never yet was such a light as that on land or sea!
New Earth, new Heaven dreamed again, from old oppression free!
Pray God be good to you, dear hill, through all his days to be,
Kurraba by the North Shore blue!

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