Pastoral

In the folds of verdant hills, Where the country rivers flow, Lives a life that softly thrills, As a gentle breeze doth blow.

Every tree and sunny glade, Every dell and grassy knoll, Holds a secret softly laid, With the whispers of my soul.

And the cattle roam at large, While the waves of grass do sway, And the sun sets, ever charged, With the beauty of the day.

• Henry Lawson