In the bush, where the shadows grow long, There’s a sweet little homestead, where the crooning doves song; Oh! the roses have blossomed, oh! the fruit-trees are fine, And the joy of the earth is the world’s and all mine.

I can hear the soft whisper of the limitless woods, As they murmur out love to the wandering floods, Every leaf is a ledger, with a tale of the sun, And the skies are the pages, where the story is spun.

• C J Dennis