Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Walter Murdoch (1874–1970). The Oxford Book of Australasian Verse. 1918.

By Arthur Adams

136 . The Australian

ONCE more this Autumn-earth is ripe,

Parturient of another type.

While with the Past old nations merge

His foot is on the Future’s verge.

They watch him, as they huddle, pent,

Striding a spacious continent,

Above the level desert’s marge

Looming in his aloofness large.

No flower with fragile sweetness graced—

A lank weed wrestling with the waste;

Pallid of face and gaunt of limb,

The sweetness withered out of him;

Sombre, indomitable, wan,

The juices dried, the glad youth gone.

A little weary from his birth,

His laugh the spectre of a mirth,

Bitter beneath a bitter sky,

To Nature he has no reply.

Wanton, perhaps, and cruel. Yes,

Is not his sun more merciless?

So drab and neutral is his day,

He finds a splendour in the grey,

And from his life’s monotony

He draws a dreary melody.

When earth so poor a banquet makes

His pleasures at a gulp he takes;

The feast is his to the last crumb:

Drink while he can…the drought will come.

His heart a sudden tropic flower,

He loves and loathes within an hour.

Yet you who by the pools abide,

Judge not the man who swerves aside;

He sees beyond your hazy fears;

He roads the desert of the years;

Rearing his cities in the sand,

He builds where even God has banned;

With green a continent he crowns,

And stars a wilderness with towns;

With paths the distances he snares;

His gyves of steel the great plain wears.

A child who takes a world for toy,

To build a nation or destroy,

His childish features frozen stern,

His manhood’s task he has to learn—

From feeble tribes to federate

One white and peace-encompassed State.

But if there be no goal to reach?…

The track lies open, dawns beseech!

Enough that he lay down his load

A little farther on the road.

So, toward undreamt-of destinies

He slouches down the centuries.