Have you seen the bush by moonlight, from the train, go running by?
Blackened log and stump and sapling, ghostly trees all dead and dry;
Here a patch of gla**y water; there a glimpse of mystic sky?
Have you heard the still voice calling – yet so warm, and yet so cold:
"I'm the Mother-Bush that bore you! Come to me when you are old"?
"I'm the Mother-Bush that bore you! Come to me."
Did you see the Bush below you sweeping darkly to the Range,
All unchanged and all unchanging, yet so very old and strange!
While you thought in softened anger of the things that did estrange?
(Did you hear the Bush a-calling, when your heart was young and bold:
"I'm the Mother-bush that nursed you; Come to me when you are old"?)
"I'm the Mother-bush that nursed you; Come to me."
"I'm the Mother-bush that nursed you; Come to me when you are old"?)
"I'm the Mother-bush that nursed you; Come to me."
Through the long vociferous cutting as the night-train swiftly sped
Did you hear the grey Bush calling from the pine-ridge overhead:
"You have seen the seas and cities – all is cold to you, or dead –
All seems done and all seems told, but the grey-light turns to gold!
I'm the Mother-Bush that loves you – come to me now you are old"?
I'm the Mother-Bush that loves you – come to me."
"I'm the Mother-Bush that loves you – come to me now you are old"?
I'm the Mother-Bush that loves you – come to me."