"The young leaves is shootin' on the trees,
The air is like a long, cool swig o' beer,
The bonzer smell of flow'rs is on the breeze,
An' 'ere's me, 'ere
Jist moochin' round like some pore, barmy coot,
Of 'ope and joy, an' forchin destichoot."
"But like a clammy pall comes Winter by and by, and the bush weeps night and day."
"Shy gold begins to peep through the sombre green - the wattle's wedding dress - and Spring is near... Then suddenly it seems, one golden morning, the Bush awakes, a living thing. Flowers bloom, birds sing, and all the world puts on its gayest dress to greet the laughing Spring."
"Yet Autumn is here like another Spring, a ministering, kindly season, healing the wounds of that too ardent love which Summer gave. "