Treasure Island

Roderic Quinn

(1867 - 1949 / Australia)


THE night-birds cry in the bush outside,
And I write here, though the hour be late;
And what shall I write of the man who died?
'He gave his gold to the poor at his gate!'
The line is written. Was that his all,
And did that all exhaust his love?
'Nay, nay, write on, while the night-birds call:
‘He gave his soul to his God above’!'
Say on; for in so rich a vein
More gold lay waiting to be proved.
' 'T was so! Write this, and write it plain:
‘He gave his heart to the wife he loved’!'
What more? 'What more dost thou require?
What more was left to give or take?
Yet more there was. Write this in fire:
‘He gave his life for his country's sake’!'
'Last gift of all, with courage fine,
Though far from stars that watched his birth.
He fell. Write then this final line:
‘He gave his clay to the aliens' earth’!'

Submitted: Friday, April 16, 2010

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Bequeathal by Roderic Quinn )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley Updates

Poem of the Day

poet William Wordsworth


I AM not One who much or oft delight
To season my fireside with personal talk.--
Of friends, who live within an easy walk,
Or neighbours, daily, weekly, in my sight:
...... Read complete »

[Hata Bildir]