[Editor: This poem by Charles Harpur was published in The Bushrangers; A Play in Five Acts, and Other Poems (1853).]
My soul is raying like a star,
My heart is happier than a bird,
And all to hear through fortune’s jar
One promissory word.
A sound as simple as the low
Quick sliding gurgle of a rill,
And yet with power to overflow
A world with blissful will!
I feel as though the very air
Was breathen from the heart of Love,
As Pleasure in the sun’s bright lair
Sat brooding like a dove!
A billow of the sunny sea,
A cloudlet of the summer sky,
How wide is their felicity —
So widely blest am I!
O Beauty, through one little word
What boundless power is thine to bless!
O Love, a seraph’s voice is heard
In thy confiding “Yes!”
Charles Harpur, The Bushrangers; A Play in Five Acts, and Other Poems, Sydney: W. R. Piddington, 1853, pages 103-104
rill = a very small brook, creek, or stream (a rivulet)
seraph = an angel (one of the Seraphim), regarded as a highly-ranked order of angel (the Seraphim are mentioned in the Bible, in Isaiah 6: “I saw also the Lord sitting upon a throne . . . Above it stood the seraphims: each one had six wings”)
Old spelling in the original text: