Analysis of Sydney Nocturnes

From The North Shore.
  TO Day she would not show her charms;
 But now the Night beseeches,
 A white reproach of wistful arms
 Over the bay she reaches.
 Upon her gleaming bosom, wet
 With tears and quivering,
 In ropes of golden beauty set
 Her vivid jewels swing.  
  Upon the pathway of the night
 She, pausing often, paces;
 About her body waves gleam white
 Like froth of filmy laces;
 And to her pleasure hurrying,
 Their torches holding high,
 On molten waters smouldering
 The ferry-boats flame by.