The Rising of the Court

In the Days when we are Dead

Henry Lawson

LISTEN! The end draws nearer,
    Nearer the morning—or night—
And I see with a vision clearer
    That the beginning was right!
These shall be words to remember
    When all has been done and said,
And my fame is a dying ember
    In the days when I am dead.

Listen! We wrote in sorrow,
    And we wrote by candle light;
We took no heed of the morrow,
    And I think that we were right—
(To-morrow, but not the day after,
    And I think that we were right).

We wrote of a world that was human
    And we wrote of blood that was red,
For a child, or a man, or a woman—
    Remember when we are dead.

Listen! We wrote not for money,
    And listen! We wrote not for fame—
We wrote for the milk and the honey
    Of Kindness, and not for a name.

We paused not, nor faltered for any,
    Though many fell back where we led;
We wrote of the few for the many—
    Remember when we are dead.

We suffered as few men suffer,
    Yet laughed as few men laugh;
We grin as the road grows rougher,
    And a bitterer cup we quaff.

We lived for Right and for Laughter,
    And we fought for a Nation ahead—
Remember it, friends, hereafter,
    In the years when I am dead—
For to-morrow and not the day after,
    For ourselves, and a Nation ahead.

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