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:
- Duty Surviving Self-Love by Samuel Coleridge
- Noe more unto my thoughts appeare by Sidney Godolphin
- Владимир Маяковский – Долг Украине
- Олег Бундур – Орлан-белохвост
- Иида Дакоцу – Сложено на вечере поэзии хайку в храме Номандзи
- Robert Burns: Grace Before And After Meat :
- Олег Бундур – Чайковский
- Guy Faux’s Night by William Barnes
- Владимир Маяковский – Заносы не дают железным дорогам жить… (РОСТА №838)
- The General by Siegfried Sassoon
- Obligation poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Алишер Навои – Сердце кровью из ран обагрить я сумел
- The Flowers poem – Aldous Huxley poems | Poetry Monster
- An American by Rudyard Kipling
- Robert Burns: Raving Winds Around Her Blowing: I composed these verses on Miss Isabella M’Leod of Raza, alluding to her feelings on the death of her sister, and the still more melancholy death of her sister’s husband, the late Earl of Loudoun, who shot himself out of sheer heart-break at some mortifications he suffered, owing to the deranged state of his finances.-R.B., 1971.
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 Агатов – Бессмертный Ленинград
- Влад Амелин – Приумножай добро
- Витя, Витенка, Витюша
- Витамины
- Виталий Тунников – Заюшкина избушка
- Виталий Тунников – Бумеранг
- Виталий Сивяков – Крещенье
- Виталий Ревякин – Самарский край
- Виталий Кодрян – 31 августа
- Виталий Бакалдин – Я не рос среди берез
- Виолетта Бережная – Много у меня друзей
- Виктор Шамонин-Версенев – Заяц-врун
- Виктор Шамонин-Версенев – Волк-дурень
- Виктор Шамонин-Версенев – Весёлый воробей
- Виктор Шамонин-Версенев – Дед-разиня, хитрая лиса и глупый волк
- Виктор Павлов – Милосердие в моем понимании
- Виктор Кудлачев – Весна
- Виктор Колесников – Вороний мат во все концы
- Виктор Кирюшин – Небеса набухшей парусиною
- Виктор Калитин – Фиалка
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.