Learn More

Henry Kendall

(18 April 1839 – 1 August 1882 / Ulladulla, New South Wales)

Araluen


Take this rose, and very gently place it on the tender, deep
Mosses where our little darling, Araluen, lies asleep.
Put the blossom close to baby -- kneel with me, my love, and pray;
We must leave the bird we've buried -- say good-bye to her to-day;
In the shadow of our trouble we must go to other lands,
And the flowers we have fostered will be left to other hands.
Other eyes will watch them growing -- other feet will softly tread
Where two hearts are nearly breaking, where so many tears are shed.
Bitter is the world we live in: life and love are mixed with pain;
We will never see these daisies -- never water them again.
   . . . . .
Here the blue-eyed Spring will linger, here the shining month will stay,
Like a friend, by Araluen, when we two are far away;
But, beyond the wild, wide waters, we will tread another shore --
We will never watch this blossom, never see it any more.

Girl, whose hand at God's high altar in the dear, dead year I pressed,
Lean your stricken head upon me -- this is still your lover's breast!
She who sleeps was first and sweetest -- none we have to take her place!
Empty is the little cradle -- absent is the little face.
Other children may be given; but this rose beyond recall,
But this garland of your girlhood, will be dearest of them all.
None will ever, Araluen, nestle where you used to be,
In my heart of hearts, you darling, when the world was new to me;
We were young when you were with us, life and love were happy things
To your father and your mother ere the angels gave you wings.

You that sit and sob beside me -- you, upon whose golden head
Many rains of many sorrows have from day to day been shed;
Who, because your love was noble, faced with me the lot austere
Ever pressing with its hardship on the man of letters here --
Let me feel that you are near me, lay your hand within mine own;
You are all I have to live for, now that we are left alone.
Three there were, but one has vanished. Sins of mine have made you weep;
But forgive your baby's father now that baby is asleep.
Let us go, for night is falling, leave the darling with her flowers;
Other hands will come and tend them -- other friends in other hours.

Submitted: Saturday, January 04, 2003

Do you like this poem?
1 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read poems about / on: baby, father, rose, girl, spring, children, happy, friend, mother, water, world, pain, alone, love, flower, angel, child, sleep

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Araluen by Henry Kendall )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Trending Poets

Trending Poems

  1. The Saddest Poem, Pablo Neruda
  2. A Little While, Dante Gabriel Rossetti
  3. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  4. Invictus, William Ernest Henley
  5. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
  6. The Tiger, William Blake
  7. Winter Solstice, Jacqueline C Nash
  8. Beyond, Fabrizio Frosini
  9. If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
  10. Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep, Mary Elizabeth Frye

Poem of the Day

poet Dante Gabriel Rossetti

A little while a little love
The hour yet bears for thee and me
Who have not drawn the veil to see
If still our heaven be lit above.
Thou merely, at the day's last sigh,
...... Read complete »

   

New Poems

  1. Textology - 2. Exclamations, Joseph Archer
  2. Si boru puas si boru Bakkara, molu dung .., Mapung Madura
  3. I Wore The Fox, Naveed Akram
  4. Clearing the void, Phil's Writings
  5. The Treacherous Bride, Asaolu Abayomi
  6. Them, Tanja Henderson
  7. It is time for me to go home, Leong Ming Loong
  8. Forsaken For Your Sake, Asma Riaz Khan
  9. Textology - 1. Conditionals, Joseph Archer
  10. WHAT FOR?, Terry Collett
[Hata Bildir]