The brooding ghosts of Australian night have gone from the bush and town;     My spirit revives in the morning breeze, though it died when the sun went down;     The river is high and the stream is strong, and the grass is green and tall,     And I fain would think that this world of ours is a good world after all.     The light of passion in dreamy eyes, and a page of truth well read,     The glorious thrill in …