A TIMID child with heart oppressed By images of sin, I slunk into the bush for rest, And found my fairy kin.
The fire I carried kept me warm:
I watched the crawling monsters melt
The sunlight was a golden beer,
And sudden laughter, idly free,
The bay of conscience’ bloody hound |
Buffalo Creek—Near Gladesville (N.S.W.), where the poet spent his boyhood. It flows into the Lane Cove River. |