The Singing Garden

| Home | The Singing Garden |

The Singing Garden

CONTENTS

SPRING

• Dawn (Verse)
• The Way of the Vandal
• Forest Sanctuary (Verse)
• Green Walls (Verse)
• Morning Glory (Verse)
• Blandishing the Birds
• Songs of Bush Birds
• The Wedge-tailed Eagle
• The Coachwhip Bird
• The Welcome Swallow
• The Wattle Bird
• The Eastern Shrike-tit
• The Spinebill Honeyeater
• The Flame-breasted Robin
• The Firetail Finches
• The Pallid Cuckoo
• The English Blackbird
• The Bronze Cuckoo
• The King Parrot
• The Tawny Frogmouth

SUMMER

• Summer (Verse)
• This Lonely Forest
• North Wind (Verse)
• Heat Wave (Verse)
• Recuperation
• Songs of Bush Birds
• The Grey Thrush
• The Rufous Fantail
• The Scrub Wren
• The Kookaburra
• The English Goldfinch
• The Grey Goshawk
• The Grey Fantail
• The Little Black Cormorant
• The Golden Whistler
• The Treecreeper
• The Gang Gang
• The Singing Honeyeater
• The Boobook Owl
• The Lyretail
• The Black and White Fantail
• The Dusky Wood-swallow

AUTUMN

• Autumn (Verse)
• The Kookaburra Murder Case
• Indian Summer (Verse)
• First Frost (Verse)
• The Case of Long John Silver
• Songs of Bush Birds
• The Magpie Lark
• The Silver-eye
• The Crimson Parrot
• The White Cockatoo
• The Butcher Bird
• The Blue Kingfisher
• The Ground Thrush
• The Sparrow
• Starlings
• The Indian Myna
• The Yellow-tailed Thornbill
• The Wonga Pigeon

WINTER

• Winter (Verse)
• Birdland on the Dole
• The Tree (Verse)
• The Besting of Bombastes
• Songs of Bush Birds
• The Blue Wren
• Currawong, Pied
• The Black Cockatoo
• The Satin Bower Bird
• The Bronzewing Pigeon
• The Crow (Australian Raven)
• The Yellow Robin
• The Pink-breasted Robin
• The Magpie
• Epilogue
• Promise of Spring (Verse)
• The Quiet Hour
• Dusk (Verse)

Autumn     -     by CJ Dennis

NOW comes the time when quiet showers soothe
The wounds of Summer's too intense embrace,
And gentle hands reach down softly to smooth
The wrinkles from the garden's sun-seared face;
Quick little breezes race
Down thro' the forest; swell, and die again,
And saplings toss like merry boys at play,
And tall, time-roughened trees, like grave old men,
Forgetting that the years have made them grey,
Laugh with the laughing day.

The adolescent gaiety of Spring
Long since has gone; the nestling birds have flown
Upon their own affairs on practised wing,
Soon to devise housekeeping of their own;
The garden's guise has grown
Sedate, yet, waxing in maturity,
Waxes in loveliness. No longer frail,
Brighter and sturdier blossoms tempt the bee
For yet a space, before they droop and fail
'Neath Winter's bitter flail.

Then flit about this fragrant countryside
Exotic elves who ride the scented breeze:
Exiled but merry artists, ranging wide
This land, to deck their lovely English trees
In Autumn's harmonies.
Her mellow mood has laughed out Summer's pride;
And her gay henchmen, not to be denied,
Yet riot as they please.

Past wattles dreaming of Spring's coming song,
About the land these gay elves peer and peek;
Past blackwood, Christmas-bush and kurrajong,
Past grave old gums that mark the dwindling creek,
For canvases they seek.
And in this clearing, sown these summers long
With ash and sumach, birch and poplar strong,
They make one merry week.

Now in my garden, as each morning comes,
In waxing beauty is the picture spread:
Before green backgrounds of the sober gums
Dawn purple, russet-brown and gold and red;
The tenderer green has fled.
And while grim Winter rolls advancing drums,
In splendid motley, as each leaf succumbs,
Cool earth is carpeted.

Red glows the sumach by the poplar's gold;
Translucent amber, burning bright and clear,
Like hope aflame, and tints a thousandfold
Marching in glorious pageantry appear.
High festival is here
That laughs at death--a wonder to behold . . .
"Now," sigh the trees, "we sleep; for we are cold.
Call us when Spring is near."

---