Lorne

Where the road's white bracelet runs
   Round the cliff 'twixt bush and sea,
Gleaming 'neath the summer's suns
   There she rests delightfully --
There she rests, a jewel set
   In the bracelet's shining band
Far from all the stress and fret
   Of the markets of the land.
 
Summers come and summers go:
   There she beckons pleasantly
By the gentle ebb and flow
   Of her blue, eternal sea.
Where the Ocean Road dips down,
   There she greets, the Southern Queen,
Weary men from mart and town,
   Seeking strength from her bright scene.
 
Wooded slope and waterfall,
   Mountain path and shining sand,
Bush and beach -- she offers all --
   Offers with a generous hand.
All the gifts for which men sigh,
   Seeking ease and soft release.
And the summers, drifting by,
   Bring her loveliness increase.
 
In the light of Loutitt Bay,
   There she smiles, the Southern Queen,
Lending to a summer's day
   Grateful rest and mood serene.
Lady Lorne, the lovely one,
   Jewel of uncounted price --
Friend of the children of the sun,
   The honeymooners' paradise.