John Sandes

John Sandes Poems

John Sandes Biography

John Sandes (26 February 1863 – 29 November 1938) was an Australian journalist and author. Sandes was born in Cork, Ireland the son of the Rev. Samuel Dickson Sandes, and his wife Sophia Julia, née Besnard. John Sandes was taken to England in 1872 and educated at King's College London, Trinity College, Stratford-on-Avon, and Oxford University, where he graduated B.A. in 1885. Sandes came to Melbourne in 1887 and joined the staff of The Argus, for which he was a capable musical and dramatic critic. Sandes, along with E. T. Fricker and D. Symmons[1], were the original three journalists who conducted the "Passing Show" column, a feature of the paper carried on by generations of writers for more than 50 years. A collection of Sandes' verses from this column, 'Rhymes of the Times', was published in 1898, and in 1900 appeared another collection, 'Ballads of Battle'. The latter of these included the poem "With Death's Prophetic Ear" which gave Sandes a popular reputation. In 1903 he became a leader writer and reviewer on the Sydney Daily Telegraph, and in 1919 represented that paper at the peace conference. In 1910 Sandes' first novel Love and the Aeroplane was published. Sandes was editor of The Harbour, a monthly devoted to shipping interests, from 1925 until shortly before his death at Wauchope, New South Wales. In his own name and under the pseudonym of "Don Delaney", Sandes was the author of several short popular novels, which were published between 1910 and 1917 and are listed in Miller's Australian Literature. In 1897 Sandes married Claire Louise (d.1928), daughter of Sir Graham Berry. Sandes was ill with cancer for eighteen months before his death, he was survived by two sons. He was an excellent journalist with a special talent for writing occasional verse.)

The Best Poem Of John Sandes

The Children Of The Mist

Through the valleys, softly creeping
‘Mid the tree-tops, tempest-tossed,
see the cloud-forms seeking, peeping
For the loved ones that are lost.
Not for storm or sunshine resting,
Will they slacken or desist,
Or grow weary in their questing
For the children of the mist.

Where are those children hiding?
Surely they will soon return,
In the gorge again abiding
‘Mid the myrtle and the fern.
Ah! the dusky forms departed
Nevermore will keep their tryst,
And the clouds, alone, sad-hearted,
mourn the Children of the Mist.

E’en the wild bush-creatures, scattered,
Ere they die renew their race,
And the pine, by levin shattered,
Leaves an heir to take his place.
Though each forest thing, forth stealing,
Year by year the clouds have kissed,
Vainly are those white arms feeling
For the children of the mist.

Dead the race, beyond awaking,
Ere its task was well begun;
Human hearts that throbbed to breaking
Are but dust beneath the sun.
Past all dreams of vengeance-wreaking,
Blown where’er the tempests list.

. . . . . . . .

But the cloud-forms still are seeking
For the children of the mist.

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