Classic Poem

The tall white gums like ghosts arise,
Up from the water's side.
To lose themselves as daylight dies,
In starry ether wide.

The crescent moon glides o'er the weir,
Between the giant hills,
And with its golden gossamer,
The scented stillness fills.

Then as the thin mist filters through
The warm close summer air,
So does the darkness, with the dew,
Steal earthward unaware.

And every pulse-beat goes to show,
The light a deeper grey;
Till suddenly the after-glow,
Falls from the west away.