Roderic Quinn Poems
|82.||The Voices Of The Rain||4/16/2010|
|84.||The Year's End||4/16/2010|
|85.||They Shall Come Home||4/16/2010|
|87.||Twilight And Peace||4/16/2010|
|90.||With The Quandongs||4/16/2010|
WITH the sorrow on me
Neighbours come and go —
Think me vain and foolish
Nursing up my woe.
With the grief-blade in me
Keen and chill as steel —
Can I laugh like others,
Feel the joy they feel?
Since he died and left me
Things don't matter much,
Life, that danced and capered,
Limps upon a crutch.
Night and day I ponder,
Drawing weary breath —
Since to love we're moulded,
Why should there be death?
Night and day I'm asking
Him Who dwells above —
Since to death we're going,
Why should there be love?
When he kissed and left me,
The Circling Hearths
MY Countrymen, though we are young as yet
With little history, nought to show
Of lives enleagued against a foreign foe,
Torn flags and triumph, glory or regret;
Still some things make our kinship sweet,
Some deeds inglorious but of royal worth,
As when with tireless arms and toiling feet
We felled the tree and tilled the earth.