The Call of the Bush

There’s a call of the bush so pure, Through the silence, softly sighs, Where the essence we know is sure, In the beauty that never dies.

Through the tall and stately trees, Where the leaves in unison sway, Nature’s crown, a gentle breeze, Gives voice to the endless day.

So let me wander without cease, In the wilderness of my dream, In the call of the bush, my peace, In the laughter of every stream.

• Henry Lawson