Songs of an Exile.--(No. 3.)(1838)
"They were lovely in their lives."He knelt beside a brother's bed--
Far in the stranger's land :
And gently raised the dying head ;
And clasped the lifeless hand. Alone he knelt ! oh kindred love--
Thy lines are hard to part,
They err, who call thee--"strong as life,"
Stronger than death thou art. That precious clay ! with what fond care,
He laid it "earth to earth ;"
And wept--where pestilential air
And fever-fangs have birth. "Wept o'er his dead !" oh not for those
Whom home and kindred cheers ;
To taste, or tell the bitter source
Of a lone Exile's tears. Death, barbed his arrows to destroy--
To slay--"yet not divide"
A young--a fair--a noble boy
Sleeps by his brother's side. E. H. D.
Penrith. Notes From the Sydney newspaper The Australian 29 Nov 1838 p. 3. Top