When such a Father doth in Israel die,
Who can forbear to sound an Elegy?
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Your face was lifted to the golden sky
Brother, today I sit on the brick bench of the house,
where you make a bottomless emptiness.
Harried we were, and spent,
broken and falling,
When the old Cutty Sark goes to sea again,
Crowding on her flying kites once more,
Inscribed to a Dear Child:
In Memory of Golden Summer Hours
Two men are joined as one in you:
One seems cold and hard,
No more I hail the morning's golden gleam, No more the wonders of the view I sing;
"Shanghai Brown, Shanghai Brown!"
The Skipper o' the Harvest Moon is rampin' round the town
I've loops o' string in the place o' buttons, I've mostly holes for a shirt;
My boots are bust and my hat's a goner, I'm gritty with
O YOUNG through all thy immemorial years!
Rise, Mother, rise, regenerate from thy gloom,
We're bound for blue water where the great winds blow, It's time to get the tacks aboard, time for us to go;
Hay un lugar que yo me sé
en este mundo, nada menos,
Hang it all, Slessor, as Pound once said to Browning,
Why have you sailed so untimely out on the water
I give thee back thy false, ephemeral vow;
But, O beloved comrade, ere we part
O Southland! O Southland!
Have you not heard the call,
LET deep dejection hide her pallid face,
And from thy breast each painful image rase;
Begin, my muse, the imitative lay,
Aonian doxies sound the thrumming string;
The snow-white Olympic swan, with beak of rose-red agate,
WHAT should be said of him cannot be said;
By too great splendor is his name attended;
Translation I by Dr. Josephine Barry Davis
"Tandem venias precamur
Nube candentes humeros amictus
Brothers and men that shall after us be,
Let not your hearts be hard to us:
My grandpa is the finest man
Excep' my pa. My grandpa can
TO mute and to material things
New life revolving summer brings;
She didn't know she was beautiful, though her smiles were dawn,
Ese vago clamor que rasga el viento es la voz funeral de una campana;
John Gilbert was a bushranger
Of terrible renown
My Uncle Bill! My Uncle Bill!
How doth my heart with anguish thrill!
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