Sing, breakers sing
With voices cool that fling
The vain regrets
Of cities, and their little frets.
On flying wings.
Sue, breakers sue
With moods of sapphire blue,
And amethyst
Alternate, like an opal kist
And sun-shot through.
Whirl, breakers, whirl,
Light-hearted boy and girl
With laughing lips,
Into your waves' eclipse,
Sea-surf a-swirl.
Dye breakers, dye,
Beneath the splendid sky,
With bronze their cheek,
And slip the happy health they seek
Into their-sigh.
Breathe, breakers, breathe !
| Your clean, fresh scents that wreathe
Out of the South.
And sting the salt kiss of your mouth
To them bequeath. . .
Sing, Bondi, sing
With voices cool that fling
The vain regrets
Of Sydney and its little frets.
On flying wings.
LOLA GORNALL.
Notes
From the NSW Newspaper The Australian Worker 3 Feb 1926 p. 13.
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