AND his death came in December, <br />When our summer was aglow— <br />Like a song that we remember, <br />Like a child’s dream long ago, <br />And it brought Australia to him, <br />Her sweetest singer dead, <br />While in silence friends who knew him <br />Bowed their heads beside his bed. <br /> <br />Angel Death comes softly stealing <br />When the watchers’ eyes are dim, <br />And, when all has failed in healing <br />Wounded heart or helpless limb— <br />With a whisper we may hear not <br />’Till with “Adsum” we respond, <br />And a vision we shall fear not <br />Of the Peaceful Land beyond. <br /> <br />While Australians in their blindness <br />Fail to realize their loss, <br />Place the wreath of loving kindness <br />And raise the simple cross. <br />For he taught us to be brothers <br />And he taught us to be brave— <br />And we’ll banish pride and envy <br />With a hand-clasp by his grave.<br /><br />Henry Lawson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/victor-6/
