Poem: An Australian Sunrise

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Brooking Springs Station

By Robert Louis Stevenson

The morning star paled slowly,

The cross hung low to the sea,

And down the shadowy reaches

The tide came swirling free.

The luscious purple vapour

Rose from the river’s breast,

The kingfisher came darting

Out of his crannied nest.

The bulrushes and reed beds

Put off their sallow grey,

And burnt with cloudy crimson

At the “Dawning of the Day.”

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