Edwin James Brady

(7 August 1869 - 22 August 1952 / Carcoar / New South Wales)

Roderic Quinn


No more will Rod his lyrics sing,
As tuneful as the thrush when Spring
With minstrel voice is calling;
As joyous as the gentle chime
Of bellbirds in the Summertime
From sylvan spires down-falling.

The harp is mute from which he drew
The magic of a music new
Of woods and golden beaches;
Its silent strings tell ne'er again
Enraptured tales of hill and plain
And gleaming river reaches.

But this fair land shall ever be
Indebted to his minstrelsy,
So, written on the portal
Of Art's proud temple, will his name
Go down forevermore in fame
Untarnished and immortal.

Submitted: Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Form:


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

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 (Roderic Quinn by Edwin James Brady )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Trending Poets

Trending Poems

  1. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  2. A Homage To The Freedom Fighters Of India, Raja Basu
  3. Dreams, Langston Hughes
  4. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  5. A Red, Red Rose, Robert Burns
  6. Daffodils, William Wordsworth
  7. O Captain! My Captain!, Walt Whitman
  8. If, Rudyard Kipling
  9. Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
  10. To A Mouse, Robert Burns

Poem of the Day

poet Geoffrey Chaucer

Adam Scrivener, if ever it thee befall
Boece or Troilus for to write anew,
Under thy long locks thou may'st have the scall
But after my making thou write more true!
...... Read complete »

 

Modern Poem

poet Jean Toomer

 
[Hata Bildir]