Henry Kendall

(18 April 1839 – 1 August 1882 / Ulladulla, New South Wales)

Henry Kendall Poems

1. On The Paroo 4/7/2010
2. Our Jack 4/7/2010
3. For Ever 4/7/2010
4. Ghost Glen 4/7/2010
5. Merope 4/7/2010
6. The Curse Of Mother Flood 4/7/2010
7. In Memory Of Edward Butler 4/7/2010
8. Intaglio - Frank Denz 4/7/2010
9. Ogyges 4/7/2010
10. The Earth Laments For Day 4/7/2010
11. Mount Erebus: (A Fragment) 4/7/2010
12. James Lionel Michael 1/1/2004
13. Caroline Chisholm 4/7/2010
14. Christmas Creek 4/7/2010
15. Lilith 4/7/2010
16. Ned The Larrikin 4/7/2010
17. In Memoriam -- A. L. Gordon 4/7/2010
18. In Memoriam — Nicol Drysdale Stenhouse 4/7/2010
19. Foreshadowings 4/7/2010
20. Kingsborough 4/7/2010
21. Manasseh 4/7/2010
22. Morning In The Bush 4/7/2010
23. Dedication 4/7/2010
24. Orara 1/1/2004
25. Outre Mer 1/4/2003
26. Daniel Henry Deniehy 1/1/2004
27. The Wail In The Native Oak 4/7/2010
28. The Wild Kangaroo 4/7/2010
29. To Miss Annie Hopkins 4/7/2010
30. Hy-Brasil 1/4/2003
31. Leaves From Australian Forests (12 Sonnets) 4/7/2010
32. John Dunmore Lang 4/7/2010
33. Kiama Revisited 4/7/2010
34. In Memoriam~ -- Alice Fane Gunn Stenhouse 4/7/2010
35. In Memorium : Adam Lindsay Gordon 4/7/2010
36. Jim The Splitter 4/7/2010
37. Mary Rivers 4/7/2010
38. On A Spanish Cathedral 4/7/2010
39. Bill The Bullock-Driver 4/7/2010
40. Ulmarra 4/7/2010
Best Poem of Henry Kendall

Amongst The Roses

I walked through a Forest, beneath the hot noon,
On Etheline calling and calling!
One said: “She will hear you and come to you soon,
When the coolness, my brother, is falling.”
But I whispered: “O Darling, I falter with pain!”
And the thirsty leaves rustled, and hissed for the rain,
Where a wayfarer halted and slept on the plain;
And dreamt of a garden of Roses!
Of a cool sweet place,
And a nestling face
In a dance and a dazzle of Roses.
In the drought of a Desert, outwearied, I wept,
O Etheline, ...

Read the full of Amongst The Roses

Araluen

Take this rose, and very gently place it on the tender, deep
Mosses where our little darling, Araluen, lies asleep.
Put the blossom close to baby -- kneel with me, my love, and pray;
We must leave the bird we've buried -- say good-bye to her to-day;
In the shadow of our trouble we must go to other lands,
And the flowers we have fostered will be left to other hands.
Other eyes will watch them growing -- other feet will softly tread
Where two hearts are nearly breaking, where so many

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