Dedication:
Dedicated to James Devaney, Poet and Novelist
I fain would sing a song to live
As long as this world's story;
But what I have to give, I give,--
Mine, not poetic glory.
No pupil I of any school
Of contemplative Art;
Responsive to each wind and wave,
Words tumble from my heart!
Perhaps some lilt may joy instil
In Bushland's sons and daughters
Who roam with me upon the hill,
Or by sun-dimpled waters.
(p.iii)
