Poems by Henry Kendall
Syrinx
... And touched her lips with wild-flower wine, ...
In Memorium : Adam Lindsay Gordon
... yea I, Who culled a garland from the flowers of song ...
On a Baby Buried by the Hawkesbury
... But the gold of the grass, and the green of the vine, ...
The Bereaved One
... Where the hopes of the past and the dreams that I cherished ...
Sitting by the Fire
... Oh, the nights - the nights we've spent, ...
Hunted Down
... And, hence, when the wolf with the brand of Cain written thrice on his face, ...
Hy-Brasil
... These and these have made thee perfect - shining saint with seraph's sight! ...
Hymn of Praise
... We seek Thy face, we praise Thee, bless Thee, sing ...
The Maid of Gerringong
... Some one saith, Oh, you that mock at Passion with a worldly whine, ...
Ulmarra
... Ah! her heart it is wasted with crying ...
The Opossum-Hunters
... And our souls are like the weather cloudless, clear and fresh and free! ...
Moss on a Wall
... Whose nights are soft, whose days are sweet ...
Under the Figtree
... When round the cliffs the merry skiffs go scudding through the waves ...
Elijah
... and held It there until the bright, young soul returned ...
Bell Birds
... The silver-voiced bell-birds, the darlings of day-time, ...
