THE DEAD POET Henry1 is dead.

Australia has not heard In her short years a word that moved her so. Dead! And the tufted wattles lightly blow On mild September airs; nor any bird Has ceased its singing for the head laid low; Nor have the quiet skies one tear to shed Over the grave of him who loved them well. Only his dust is mightier, being dead; And the long days have a long tale to tell. Made of this sky, this dust, this yellow sun That sprinkles gold through every living tree, This gentle air that stirs the grass and sea Was he whose hands are still, whose work is done, Whose fame cries down the dim eternity. Dead! But the great years shall not write him so, Whateer be graver on the stone above The dust is laid that the clean wind may blow Through the broad highway of a nations love. Large love shall be his portion. Each worn page That is forever of himself a part Each phrase that lays soft hands upon the heart These shall have tears for tribute, age by age; And while pale scholars wonder at the art That scorning art makes clear the master hand, Strong, simple men shall feel their pulses glow With great desire and deeply understand His human magic of the long ago. And if great kings of laughter shall arise To reign upon the thrones of royal mirth, And shake the merry sides of this old earth Till the lean heart of its own misery dies, By regal kinship they shall know his worth And call him to the dais where they sit, Joy over joy, that all the world may bless The wanderer of old whose humor lit A lamp of gladness in our wilderness. Let it be so. He found Australias heart And played upon it as the west wind sings When the tall trees at morning are the strings. A thousand living echoes round him start, Each with a tender sympathy for wings....
1

Henry Lawson 1867-1922) Australian writer and poet.

Yet what is this to me? His lifted hand Greets me no more upon the common way Friend of my dreams, your ship is at the land; The dark and storm are over. It is day.
David McKee Wright N.S.W. The Bulletin, 7 September 1922.