Zu Der Edlen Yagd Adam Lindsay Gordon I remember some words my father said, When I was an urchin vain ;? God rest his soul, in his narrow bed These ten long years he hath lain. When I think one drop of the blood he...
Ye Wearie Wayfarer Adam Lindsay Gordon Hark! the bells of distant cattle Waft across the range, Through the golden-tufted wattle Music low and strange; Like the marriage of peal fairies Comes the tinkling sound, Or like chimes of sweet St Mary’s On far English ground....
Wormwood And Nightshade Adam Lindsay Gordon The troubles of life are many, The pleasures of life are few ; When we sat in the sunlight, Annie, I dreamt that the skies were blue? When we sat in the sunlight, Annie, I dreamt that the earth...
Wolf And Hound Adam Lindsay Gordon You’ll take my tale with a little salt; But it needs none, nevertheless! I was foiled completely – fair at fault – Disheartened, too, I confess! At the splitters’ tent I had seen the track Of horse-hoofs fresh on...
Whisperings In Wattle-Boughs Adam Lindsay Gordon Oh, gaily sings the bird, and the wattle-boughs are stirred And rustled by the scented breath of spring ; Oh, the dreary, wistful longing ! Oh, the faces that are thronging ! Oh, the voices that are vaguely whispering...
Verses Inspired By ‘My Old Black Pipe’ Adam Lindsay Gordon Aye ! Many a sport old Homer names. By Achilles held ‘ at his little games ‘, On the banks of the swift Scamander ; And Pindar sings the Olympian deeds Of the ivory car...
Unshriven Adam Lindsay Gordon Oh ! the sun rose on the lea, and the bird sang merrilie, And the steed stood ready harnessed in the hall. And he left his lady’s bower, and he sought the eastern tower, And he lifted cloak and weapon from...
To My Sister Adam Lindsay Gordon On 4th August, 1853. Being three days before he sailed for Australia. Across the trackless seas I go, No matter when or where, And few my future lot will know, And fewer still will care. My hopes are gone,...
To A Proud Beauty (‘A Valentine’) Adam Lindsay Gordon Though I have loved you well, I ween, And you, too, fancied me, Your heart hath too divided been A constant heart to be. And like the gay and youthful knight, Who loved and rode away,...
Thora’s Song (‘Ashtaroth’) Adam Lindsay Gordon We severed in Autumn early, Ere the earth was torn by the plough; The wheat and the oats and the barley Are ripe for the harvest now. We sundered one misty morning Ere the hills were dimmed by the...
