Roderic Quinn

(1867 - 1949 / Australia)

Roderic Quinn Poems

41. The Black Hound 4/16/2010
42. The Camp Within The West 1/1/2004
43. The Circling Hearths 1/1/2004
44. The Counsellors 4/16/2010
45. The Currency Lass 4/16/2010
46. The Dread Beyond Death 4/16/2010
47. The Drover Of The Stars 4/16/2010
48. The Fiddle And The Crowd 4/16/2010
49. The Fisher 4/16/2010
50. The Frontier-Land 4/16/2010
51. The Gardener 4/16/2010
52. The Golden Yesterday 4/16/2010
53. The Greater Love 4/16/2010
54. The Hidden Heart 4/16/2010
55. The Hidden Tide 1/1/2004
56. The House Of The Commonwealth 1/4/2003
57. The Lagoon 4/16/2010
58. The Little House 4/16/2010
59. The Long, Lone Road 4/16/2010
60. The Lotus-Flower 1/4/2003
61. The Lovers' Walk 4/16/2010
62. The Master-Man 4/16/2010
63. The Red Mist 4/16/2010
64. The Red-Tressed Maiden 4/16/2010
65. The River And The Road 4/16/2010
66. The Scarlet Cloak 4/16/2010
67. The Sea-Seekers 4/16/2010
68. The Secret Pool 4/16/2010
69. The Seeker 4/16/2010
70. The Shadow-Third 4/16/2010
71. The Song 4/16/2010
72. The Song Of The Cicadas 1/1/2004
73. The Song Of The Violin 4/16/2010
74. The Soul Of The Anzac 4/16/2010
75. The Surrender 4/16/2010
76. The Swamp 4/16/2010
77. The Three Knocks 4/16/2010
78. The Threshold Stone 4/16/2010
79. The Turn Of The Road 4/16/2010
80. The Twenty-Fifth Of April 4/16/2010
Best Poem of Roderic Quinn

The Twenty-Fifth Of April

THIS day is Anzac Day!
Made sacred by the memory
Of those who fought and died, and fought and live,
And gave the best that men may give
For love of Land. It dawns once more,
And, though on alien sea and shore
The guns are silent all,
Yet we with pride recall
The deeds which gave it immortality.
Great deeds are deathless things!
The doer dies, but not the deed,
And, when upon that fateful April day
Our Anzacs, throwing all but love away,
Gave life and limb for Honour's sake,
With Freedom tremblingly at stake,
They lit a beacon-light
Imperishable, ...

Read the full of The Twenty-Fifth Of April

Mid-Forest Fear


SHE is standing at the gate,
Tall and sweet,
And although the hour be late
She will greet
Me, her lover,
Smiling over
Absent mind and tardy feet.

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