― 170 ―


In thy garden, Illawarra, where the giant lilies grow,
And the brightly blooming coral-trees expend their ruddy glow,
Where the tendrils of the lawyer-bush affectionately cling,
And the strong and graceful supple-jacks from lofty branches swing,
Where the hills are always smiling, and the valleys wondrous fair,
Where the stately eucalyptus spreads a fragrance through the air,
Where breaking seas on golden sands their crested billows roll;
'Twas there I first saw bonny Kate, the lode-star of my soul.

In thy garden, Illawarra, from the mountains to the sea,
In thy gorgeous wealth of blossoms, there was none so fair as she.

  ― 171 ―
Her form was supple as thy vines that cluster overhead,
Thy coral bloom grew pale beside her lips of ruddy red.
Her mind was pure and guileless as thy sea-swept golden sands,
Her voice was like a magic harp touched by celestial hands;
Her very presence formed a link 'twixt earth and heaven above,
And thy fragrant air grew greater with the perfume of her love.

In thy garden, Illawarra, where the giant lilies wave,
'Mid the tangled ferns and flannel flowers, there lies a lonely grave.
For Death came riding by, and plucked my blossom in his flight,
And all thy gorgeous Paradise grew barren in a night.
For me thy flowers no longer bloom, thy valleys smile no more,
And thou art Desolation, from the mountain to the shore;
There's a dirge among the supple-jacks, a requiem by the sea,
For thy garden is a sepulchre, where all is Death to me.