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:
- Thoughts On The Works Of Providence by Phillis Wheatley
- Alison Gross poem – Andrew Lang poems
- Владимир Высоцкий – Говорят, лезу прямо под нож
- a maiden’s broken heart by Raj Arumugam
- Easter Communion poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- Song—The Fall of the Leaf by Robert Burns
- At Sea poem – Aleister Crowley poems | Poetry Monster
- The Soundless Ocean by Tanmoy
- Edmundi Trotii Epitaphium poem – Andrew Marvell poems
- On Mr. Gay poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster
- Liebestod
- Виктор Гончаров – Когда тебя бессонной ночью
- Олег Григорьев – На собрании
- Из головы у меня не выходишь
- Relations by Sunil Sharma
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
- Владимир Маяковский – Себе, любимому, посвящает эти строки автор
- Владимир Маяковский – Счастье искусств
- Владимир Маяковский – С винтовкой, но без знания – нет побед (РОСТА № 115)
- Владимир Маяковский – С Польшей подписан мир… (РОСТА №428)
- Владимир Маяковский – С Польшей мир… (РОСТА №423)
- Владимир Маяковский – Ров (РОСТА №181)
- Владимир Маяковский – Россия – страна земледельческая… (РОСТА №874)
- Владимир Маяковский – Россия — единое советское хозяйство (РОСТА № 280)
- Владимир Маяковский – России
- Владимир Маяковский – Рифмованные лозунги
- Владимир Маяковский – Реклама журнала “Огонек”
- Владимир Маяковский – Реклама Резинотрест
- Владимир Маяковский – Реклама Моссукно
- Владимир Маяковский – Реклама Мосполиграф
- Владимир Маяковский – Реклама издательства “Красная новь”
- Владимир Маяковский – Реклама, 1928
- Владимир Маяковский – Разве у вас не чешутся обе лопатки
- Владимир Маяковский – Размышления у парадного подъезда
- Владимир Маяковский – Разговор с товарищем Лениным
- Владимир Маяковский – Рассказ Хренова о Кузнецкстрое и о людях Кузнецка
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.