Potters’ Clay Adam Lindsay Gordon Though the pitcher that goes to the sparkling rill Too oft gets broken at last, There are scores of others its place to fill When its earth to the earth is cast ; Keep that pitcher at home, let it...
Podas Okus Adam Lindsay Gordon Am I waking ? Was I sleeping ? Dearest, are you watching yet ? Traces on your cheeks of weeping Glitter, ’tis in vain you fret ; Drifting ever ! drifting onward ! In the glass the bright sand runs...
No Name Adam Lindsay Gordon A stone upon her heart and head, But no name written on that stone; Sweet neighbours whisper low instead, This sinner was a loving one. Mrs. Browning. ‘Tis a nameless stone that stands at your head The gusts in the...
Lex Talionis Adam Lindsay Gordon To beasts of the field, and fowls of the air, And fish of the sea alike, Man’s hand is ever slow to spare, And ever ready to strike ; With a license to kill, and to work our will, In...
Laudamus Adam Lindsay Gordon The Lord shall slay or the Lord shall save ! He is righteous whether He save or slay Brother ! give thanks for the gifts He gave, Though the gifts He gave He hath taken away. Shall we strive for that...
In Utrumque Paratus Adam Lindsay Gordon ‘Then hey for boot and horse, lad ! And round the world away ! Young blood will have its course, lad ! And every dog his day !’C. Kingsley. There’s a formula which the west country clowns Once used,...
How We Beat The Favourite Adam Lindsay Gordon A Lay of the Loamshire Hunt Cup ‘Aye, squire,’ said Stevens, ‘they back him at evens ; The race is all over, bar shouting, they say ; The Clown ought to beat her ; Dick Neville is...
Hippodromania; Or, Whiffs From The Pipe Adam Lindsay Gordon Part I Visions in the Smoke Rest, and be thankful! On the verge Of the tall cliff rugged and grey, But whose granite base the breakers surge, And shiver their frothy spray, Outstretched, I gaze on...
Gone Adam Lindsay Gordon IN Collins Street standeth a statute tall, A statue tall, on a pillar of stone, Telling its story, to great and small, Of the dust reclaimed from the sand waste lone; Weary and wasted, and worn and wan, Feeble and faint,...
From The Wreck Adam Lindsay Gordon ‘Turn out, boys”What’s up with our super. to-night ? The man’s mad Two hours to daybreak I’d swear Stark mad why, there isn’t a glimmer of light.’ ‘Take Boling broke, Alec, give Jack the young mare ; Look sharp....
