Analysis of Night Thought

The world around is sleeping,
  The stars are bright o'erhead,
The shades of myalls weeping
  Upon the sward are spread;
Among the gloomy pinetops
  The fitful breezes blow,
And their murmurs seem the music
  Of a song of long ago;
Soft, passionate, and wailing
  Is the tender old refrain -
With a yearning unavailing -
  "Will he no come back again?"

The camp-fire sparks are flying
  Up from the pine-log's glow,
The wandering wind is sighing
  That ballad sweet and low;
The drooping branches gleaming
  In the firelight, sway and stir;
And the bushman's brain is dreaming
  Of the song she sang, and her.
And the murmurs of the forest
  Ring home to heart and brain,
As in the pine is chorused
  "Wi11 he no come back again?"