George Essex Evans

(18 June 1863 – 10 November 1909 / London, England)

George Essex Evans Poems

1. Ode To The Philistines 4/13/2010
2. Seddon 4/13/2010
3. The Dead Democrat 4/13/2010
4. The Grey Road 4/13/2010
5. The Land Of The Dawning 4/13/2010
6. The Lion's Whelps 4/13/2010
7. The Song Of Life 4/13/2010
8. The Splendour And The Curse Of Song 4/13/2010
9. The Wayfarers 4/13/2010
10. Welcome 4/13/2010
11. William Henry Groom Vale` 4/13/2010
12. Women Of The West 4/13/2010
13. To The Unknown God 4/13/2010
14. Toowoomba 4/13/2010
15. Victoria 4/13/2010
16. Thomas Joseph Byrnes 4/13/2010
17. To A Bigot 4/13/2010
18. The Sword Of Pain 4/13/2010
19. The Two Goblets 4/13/2010
20. The Master 4/13/2010
21. The Crown Of Empire 4/13/2010
22. The Song Of Gracia 4/13/2010
23. Out Of The Silence 4/13/2010
24. Riches 4/13/2010
25. The Average Man 4/13/2010
26. On The Plains 1/1/2004
27. The Doves Of Venus 4/13/2010
28. The Dream Star 4/13/2010
29. The Spirit Of Poetry 4/13/2010
30. To The Irish Dead 4/13/2010
31. The Wheels Of The System 4/13/2010
32. Loraine 4/13/2010
33. Ad Astra 4/13/2010
34. The Plains 4/13/2010
35. The Secret Key 4/13/2010
36. Kara 4/13/2010
37. In A Garden 4/13/2010
38. From Loraine 4/13/2010
39. Altiora Peto 4/13/2010
40. Cymru 4/13/2010

Comments about George Essex Evans

  • Sid Barker (12/31/2012 9:10:00 AM)

    The South Australian Register for 13 July 1897 gives details of a Jubilee song by George Essex Evans Victoria, Empress of the Free with music by George Christian Neech. I have failed to find any further reference to it and cannot trace the music. Can anybody help?

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Best Poem of George Essex Evans

A Grave By The Sea

No white cloud sails the lonely sky,
Thro’ the gaunt trees no breezes sigh,
Thro’ the lush grass no fall of feet;
No song of bird in all the land,
But, floating faintly, dreamily,
The distant dirge of waves that beat
In discontent upon the sand.
Here, where all Nature seems aswoon,
Time, languid as a summer stream,
Drifts down the sweet soft afternoon;
And Death, discrowned of terror, brings
Surcease to souls that wake not soon,
And casts above Life’s fevered dream
Cool shadows of Immortal Wings.

Here, by the old graves overgrown,
A bare ...

Read the full of A Grave By The Sea

A Pastoral

Nature feels the touch of noon;
   Not a rustle stirs the grass;
Not a shadow flecks the sky,
Save the brown hawk hovering nigh;
   Not a ripple dims the glass
   Of the wide lagoon.

Darkly, like an armed host
   Seen afar against the blue,

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