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Victor

And his death came in December,
When our summer was aglow—
Like a song that we remember,
Like a child’s dream long ago,
And it brought Australia to him,
Her sweetest singer dead,
While in silence friends who knew him
Bowed their heads beside his bed.

Angel Death comes softly stealing
When the watchers’ eyes are dim,
And, when all has failed in healing
Wounded heart or helpless limb—
With a whisper we may hear not
’Till with “Adsum” we respond,
And a vision we shall fear not
Of the Peaceful Land beyond.

While Australians in their blindness
Fail to realize their loss,
Place the wreath of loving kindness
And raise the simple cross.
For he taught us to be brothers
And he taught us to be brave—
And we’ll banish pride and envy
With a hand-clasp by his grave.

poem by Henry Lawson
Added by Poetry Lover
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