“Around the lower edges
There waves a bed of reeds,
Where water rats are hidden
And where the wild-duck breeds;
And grassy slopes rise gently
To ridges long and low,
Where groves of wattle flourish
And native bluebells grow.”


“Now still down Reedy River
The grassy sheoaks sigh;
The water holes still mirror
The pictures in the sky;
The golden sand is drifting
Across the rocky bars;
And over all for ever
Go sun and moon and stars.”

Reedy River by
Henry Lawson