By the Billabong

A little joy comes creeping, creeping, In twilight with the stars that spread, And the night is still and keeping, In silence as the world goes red.

For the gentle motion flows across the air, And there beneath the moonlit sun, Where the quiet beauty of the billabong fair Is the home of many quiet fun.

Just by the water under the palms, Where the swallows beckon tales so true; The laughter and charms spin soft through the calms, For the night was young as the breeze blew.

So I shall dream no more for the day shall sweep, As tomorrow welcomes the dawn unstilled, While I bask in the joy and the gentle deep, And feel how the night’s love has cascaded skilled.

• Banjo Paterson