To My Friend Sydney Jephcott, With A Copy Of My "Poetical Works."

"Take with all my heart, friend, this,
    The labour of my past,
Though the heart here hidden is
And the soul's eternities
    Hold the present fast.

"Take it, still, with soul and heart,
    Pledge of that dear day
When the shadows stir and start,
By the bright Sun burst apart -
    Young Australia!"

Francis William Lauderdale Adams

Francis William Lauderdale Adams (27 September 1862 – 4 September 1893) was an English writer, poet, dramatist, and social reformer. His literary work often reflected his radical socialist views. Adams lived a life marred by poverty and struggles with his health, eventually committing suicide at the age of 30. Despite his brief life, his contributions to literature and social thought remain significant.

Francis William Lauderdale Adams

Holy Russia.

Francis William Lauderdale Adams, Simple Poetry

To Henry George In America.

Francis William Lauderdale Adams, Simple Poetry

Farewell To The Children.

Francis William Lauderdale Adams, Simple Poetry

To Edith.

Francis William Lauderdale Adams, Simple Poetry

English

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To E. L. Zox. {89} (Melbourne.)

We thank you for a noble work well done.
There is a kindness - ('tis the truer one;
    The better part the simpler heart doth know),
The care to give the day a brighter sun

To these, the nameless crowd that drags on slow
The common toil, the common weary woe
    The world cares nought for. But your work secures
Thro' union strength and self-respect that grow.

There is a courage that unflawed endures
The sneer, the slander of earth's epicures.
    And here are grateful women's hearts to show
This kindness and this courage, both are yours!

Francis William Lauderdale Adams

Epode. "On The Ranges, Queensland."

Beyond the night, down o'er the labouring East,
I see light's harbinger of dawn released:
Upon the false gleam of the ante-dawn,
Lo, the fair heaven of day-pursuing morn!

Beyond the lampless sleep and perishing death
That hold my heart, I feel my new life's breath,
I see the face my spirit-shape shall have
When this frail clay and dust have fled the grave.

Beyond the night, the death of doubt, defeat,
Rise dawn and morn, and life with light doth meet,
For the great Cause, too, - sure as the sun yon ray
Shoots up to strike the threatening clouds and say;
"I come, and with me comes the victorious Day!"

                            * * * * *

When I was young, the muse I wors...

Francis William Lauderdale Adams

To An Unionist.

"If you only knew
How gladly I've given it
All these years -
The light of mine eyes,
The heat of my lips,
Mine agonies,
My yearning tears,
My blood that drips,
My brain that sears:
If you only knew
How gladly I've given it
All these years -
My hope and my youth,
My manhood, my Art,
My passion, my truth,
My mind and my heart:

"O my brother, you would not say,
    What have you to do with me?
You would not, would not turn away
    Doubtingly and bitterly.

"If you only knew
How little I cared for
These other things -
The delicate speech,
The high demand
Of each from each,
The imaginings
Of Love's Holy Land:
If you only knew
How little I cared for
These other things -
The wide c...

Francis William Lauderdale Adams

To An Old Mate

Old Mate! In the gusty old weather,
When our hopes and our troubles were new,
In the years spent in wearing out leather,
I found you unselfish and true,
I have gathered these verses together
For the sake of our friendship and you.

You may think for awhile, and with reason,
Though still with a kindly regret,
That I've left it full late in the season
To prove I remember you yet;
But you'll never judge me by their treason
Who profit by friends, and forget.

I remember, Old Man, I remember,
The tracks that we followed are clear,
The jovial last nights of December,
The solemn first days of the year,
Long tramps through the clearings and timber,
Short partings on platform and pier.

I can still feel the spirit that bore us,
And often t...

Henry Lawson

To Henry George In America.

Not for the thought that burns on keen and clear,
    Heat that the heat has turned from red to white,
    The passion of the lone remembering night
One with the patience day must see and hear -
Not for the shafts the lying foemen fear,
    Shot from the soul's intense self-centring light -
    But for the heart of love divine and bright,
We praise you, worker, thinker, poet, seer!
Man of the People, - faithful in all parts,
    The veins' last drop, the brain's last flickering dole,
    You on whose forehead beams the aureole
That hope and "certain hope" alone imparts -
    Us have you given your perfect heart and soul;
Wherefore receive as yours our souls and hearts!

Francis William Lauderdale Adams

Farewell To The Children.

In the early summer morning
    I stand and watch them come,
The children to the school-house;
    They chatter and laugh and hum.

The little boys with satchels
    Slung round them, and the girls
Each with hers swinging in her hand;
    I love their sunny curls.

I love to see them playing,
    Romping and shouting with glee,
The boys and girls together,
    Simple, fearless, free.

I love to see them marching
    In squads, in file, in line,
Advancing and retreating,
    Tramping, keeping time.

Sometimes a little lad
    With a bright brave face I'll see,
And a wistful yearning wonder
    Comes stealing over me.

For once I too had a darling;
    I dreamed what he should do,
And surely he'd have had, I...

Francis William Lauderdale Adams