An Australian Girl

She has a beauty of her own,
A beauty of a paler tone
Than English belles.
The Southern sun and Southern air
Have kissed her cheeks until they wear
The dainty tints that oft appear
On rosy shells.

Her frank, clear eyes bespeak a mind
Old-world traditions fail to bind.
She is not shy
Or bold, but simply self-possessed ;
Her independence adds a zest
Unto her speech, her piquant jest,
Her quaint reply.

O'er classic volumes she will pore
With joy ; and some scholastic lore
Will often gain.
In sports she bears away the bell,
Nor under music's siren spell
To dance divinely, flirt as well,
Does she disdain.