ONCE a poet—long ago— Wrote a song as void of art As the songs that children know, And as pure as a child’s heart. With a sigh he threw it down,

IN Youth, when through our veins… The bright red stream of life, The Soul’s Voice is a trumpet-bla… That calls us to the strife. The Spirit spurns its prison-bars…

They brought my fair love out upon… Out from the dwelling that her smi… Out from the life that her life ma… Into the glitter of the garish str… And no man wept, save I, for that…

THE old dead flowers of bygone su… The old sweet songs that are no mo… The rose-red dawns that were welco… When you and I and the world were… Are lost, O love, to the light fo…

ALL silent is the room, There is no stir of breath, Save mine, as in the gloom I sit alone with Death. Short life it had, the sweet,

Choose who will the wiser part— I have held her heart to heart; And have felt her heart-strings st… And her soul’s still singing heard For one golden-haloed hour

Not only on cross and gibbet, By sword, and fire, and flood, Have perished the world’s sad mart… Whose names are writ in blood. A woman lay in a hovel,

HAVING certain cares to drown, To the sea I took them down: And I threw them in the wave, That engulfed them like a grave. Swiftly then I plied the oar

Stand up, my young Australian, In the brave light of the sun, And hear how Freedom’s battle Was in the old days lost - and won… The blood burns in my veins, boy,

GOOD fellows are laughing and dr… (To-night no heart should grieve), But I am of old days thinking, Alone, on Christmas Eve. Old memories fast are springing

If I were young as you, Sixteen, And you were old as I, I would not be as I have been, You would not be so shy— We should not watch with careless…

METHOUGHT I came unto a world… Where souls stood thick as grain a… And many reapers, full of pious pr… With rapid scythe-sweeps mowed the… And zealous binders bound them up…

The wan light of a stormy dawn Gleamed on a tossing ship: It was the In Memoriam Upon a mourning trip. Wild waves were on the windward bo…

IT MAY have been a fragment of t… Truth dreams, at times, disclose; It may have been to Fond Illusion… But thus the story goes: A fierce sun glared upon a gaunt l…

Tjere are three mighty Voices th… Cry out to God to speed His Judg… The Voice of Devils, weary long a… Of dragging souls to Everlasting… The Voice of Saints who hear, whi…