Sydney Cove, 1788

SHE sat on the rocks, her fireless eyes Teased and tired with the thoughts of yore; And paining her sense were alien skies, An alien sea and an alien shore. In gold-green dusks she glimpsed new flowers And the glittering wings of gleaming birds — But haunting her still were English bowers And the clinging sweetness of old love-words. A soft breeze murmured of unknown shores And laughed as it touched her with fingers light, But she mourned the more for the wind that roars Down sullen coasts on a northern night. Like topaz gems on a sable dome The stranger stars stole shyly forth; She saw no stars like the stars of home That burned, white-fired, in the frosty north. A restless sea was at her feet, A restless sea of darkest blue; The lights burned dimly on The Fleet, And these were all the ships it knew. She watched the dark tides rise and fall, The lion-tides that, night and noon, Range round the world, and moan and call In sad sea-voices to the moon. Thus while she watched they ebbed and flowed; Till last with sudden splendour Day Lit all the scene with gold, and showed An arrow black on a garb of grey.