It is the snow-gum silently,
In noon's blue and the silvery
Flowering of light on snow.
Performing its slow miracle
Where upon drift and icicle
Perfect lies its shadow.
Leaf upon leaf's fidelity,
The creamy trunk's solidity,
The full-grown curve of the crown,
It is the tree's perfection
Now shown in clear reflection
Like flakes of soft grey stone.
Out of the granite's eternity,
Out of the winter's long enmity,
Something is done on the snow;
And the silver light like ecstasy
Flows where the green tree perfectly
Curves to its perfect shadow.