Gone
by Adam Lindsay Gordon
IN Collins Street standeth a statute tall,
A statue tall, on a pillar of stone,
Telling its story, to great and small,
Of the dust reclaimed from the sand waste lone;
Weary and wasted, and worn and wan,
Feeble and faint, and languid and low,
He lay on the desert a dying man;
Who has gone, my friends, where we all must go.
There are perils by land, and perils by water,
Short, I ween, are the obsequies
Of the landsman lost, but they may be shorter
With the mariner lost in the trackless seas;
And well for him, when the timbers start,
And the stout ship reels and settles below,
Who goes to his doom with as bold a heart,
As that dead man gone where we all must go.
Man is stubborn his rights to yield,
And redder than dews at eventide
Are the dews of battle, shed on the field,
By a nation’s wrath or a despot’s pride;
But few who have heard their death-knell roll,
From the cannon’s lips where they faced the foe,
Have fallen as stout and steady of soul,
As that dead man gone where we all must go.
Traverse yon spacious burial ground,
Many are sleeping soundly there,
Who pass’d with mourners standing around,
Kindred, and friends, and children fair;
Did he envy such ending? ’twere hard to say;
Had he cause to envy such ending? no;
Can the spirit feel for the senseless clay,
When it once has gone where we all must go?
What matters the sand or the whitening chalk,
The blighted herbage, the black’ning log,
The crooked beak of the eagle-hawk,
Or the hot red tongue of the native dog?
That couch was rugged, those sextons rude,
Yet, in spite of a leaden shroud, we know
That the bravest and fairest are earth-worms’ food,
When once they’ve gone where we all must go.
With the pistol clenched in his failing hand,
With the death mist spread o’er his fading eyes,
He saw the sun go down on the sand,
And he slept, and never saw it rise;
’Twas well; he toil’d till his task was done,
Constant and calm in his latest throe,
The storm was weathered, the battle was won,
When he went, my friends, where we all must go.
God grant that whenever, soon or late,
Our course is run and our goal is reach’d,
We may meet our fate as steady and straight
As he whose bones in yon desert bleach’d;
No tears are needed—our cheeks are dry,
We have none to waste upon living woe;
Shall we sigh for one who has ceased to sigh,
Having gone, my friends, where we all must go?
We tarry yet, we are toiling still,
He is gone and he fares the best,
He fought against odds, he struggled up hill,
He has fairly earned his season of rest;
No tears are needed—fill our the wine,
Let the goblets clash, and the grape juice flow,
Ho! pledge me a death-drink, comrade mine,
To a brave man gone where we all must go.
A few random poems:
- Life Brings Me to this Journey. by Stephen Sweitzer
- Sonnet 07 poem – John Milton poems
- Halls grew darker poem – Aleksandr Blok poems | Poetry Monster
- Jessie by Thomas Edward Brown
- Behind a Wall poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Metamorphoses Of The Moon by Sylvia Plath
- Гавриил Державин – Философы, пьяный и трезвый
- Dans les filets de midi by Martine Morillon-Carreau
- Virgule by Thomas Lux
- Acon and Rhodope by Walter Savage Landor
- Orlando Furioso Canto 12 by Ludovico Ariosto
- To The Ladies Who Saw Me Crowned poem – John Keats poems
- Story of a Drunk by Violet Uram
- an evening’s music by Raj Arumugam
- Омар Хайям – Кому там от Любви покой необходим
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Oonts by Rudyard Kipling
- One Viceroy Resigns by Rudyard Kipling
- Natural Theology by Rudyard Kipling
- My Rival by Rudyard Kipling
- My New-Cut Ashler by Rudyard Kipling
- My Lady’s Law by Rudyard Kipling
- My Boy Jack by Rudyard Kipling
- Mulholland’s Contract by Rudyard Kipling
- Mowgli’s Song Against People by Rudyard Kipling
- Mowgli’s Song by Rudyard Kipling
- Mother o’ Mine by Rudyard Kipling
- Morning Song in the Jungle by Rudyard Kipling
- Mine Sweepers by Rudyard Kipling
- Mesopotamia by Rudyard Kipling
- Merrow Down by Rudyard Kipling
- Mary’s Son by Rudyard Kipling
- Mary, Pity Women! by Rudyard Kipling
- Many Inventions by Rudyard Kipling
- Mandalay by Rudyard Kipling
- Lukannon by Rudyard Kipling
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works

Adam Lindsay Gordon (1833 – 1870) was an Australian or British-Australian poet, horseman, police officer and politician. He is considered to be one of the first national Australian poets.