Adam Lindsay Gordon Poems

A burning glass of burnish'd brass,
The calm sea caught the noontide rays,
And sunny slopes of golden grass
And wastes of weed-flower seem to blaze.
...

They say that poison-sprinkled flowers
Are sweeter in perfume
Than when, untouched by deadly dew,
They glowed in early bloom.
...

Hold hard, Ned! Lift me down once more, and lay me in the shade.
Old man, you've had your work cut out to guide
Both horses, and to hold me in the saddle when I swayed,
All through the hot, slow, sleepy, silent ride.
...

Francesca

Crush'd and throng'd are all the places
In our amphitheatre,
'Midst a sea of swarming faces
...

Adieu to kindred hearts and home,
To pleasure, joy, and mirth,
A fitter foot than mine to roam
Could scarcely tread the earth ;
...

Oh! wind that whistles o'er thorns and thistles,
Of this fruitful earth like a goblin elf;
...

Boot and saddle, see, the slanting
Rays begin to fall,
Flinging lights and colours flaunting
Through the shadows tall.
...

[A Song of Pilgrimage]

Our hopes are wild imaginings,
Our schemes are airy castles,
...

The Lay of the Last Squatter

Draw your chair to the fire, old woman,
The days are warm, but the nights are cold ;
So, they've hunted our milkers off the common,
...

The terrible night-watch is over,
I turn where I lie,
To eastward my dim eyes discover
Faint streaks in the sky ;
...