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C J Dennis - Melba
Work rating: Low

Born to the sun and smiling skies, 
   And bird-songs to the morning flung,
To joyousness that never dies 
   In hearts that stay for ever young -
`Twas here, beneath the shining trees,
   She paused to learn the magic rune
Of those unlaboured ecstasies
   That keep a weary world in tune.


The grey thrush fluting by the nest,
   The golden whistler trilling high -
Their gifts she captured and expressed
   In magic notes that may not die.
Then to the old, grey world she gave,
   Exultingly, at Art`s command,
In songs that live beyond the grave,
   Her message from a bright, young land.


With sheer exuberance of Art,
   Won from that happy, feathered throng,
She poured our sunshine from her heart,
   Translated into magic song.
And tho`, alas. the singer dies,
   Who bade old continents rejoice,
Not ever from our sunlit skies
   Departs the memory of her voice.
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