Seek you sorely, for a space, Respite from the world’s dull fretting? Come then to a secret place— Man’s entanglements forgetting— Deep within the forest dreaming, Deep within its shadows cool, Where the mountain waters streaming Broaden to the placid beaming Of a quiet pool. Making here a great green tent, Tea-tree bough and wattle bending— As strong lovers’ arms are bent Shielding beauty—droop, defending This green sanctuary sleeping In its soft green twilit day; And a scrap of bright sky peeping Thro’ the tall trees, sentry keeping, Seems a world away. Rage the tempest as it may O’er the tree-tops, writhing, broiling; Burn as may the burning day, Frailer loveliness despoiling; Summer’s scorn and Winter’s bluster Seek in vain this hallowed spot Lending its translucent lustre To the nodding ferns that cluster Many a mossy grot. Steeply slope the banks above, All the outer turmoil muting; Softly, bush birds’ songs of love Match an organ’s mellow fluting. Here is peace past all conceiving In this forest chancel, here Spreads a grace that transmutes grieving To hushed wonder, to believing God is very near.