Poem: Brunton Stephens by George Essex Evans

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The gentle heart that hated wrong,
   The courage that all ills withstood,
The seeing eye, the mighty song
   That stirred us into Nationhood,
      Have passed. What garlands can be spread?
      The Prince of Courtesy is dead.

The power that touched all human chords
   With wit that lightened thro' the years,
Without a sting, whose tender words
   Unsealed the fountain of our tears
      Ah! bow the heart and bend the head --
      The Prince of Courtesy is dead.

Great Singer of the South, who set
   Thy face to Duty as a star,
Though, in hushed skies of violet,
   Thy throne of kingship gleamed afar,
      Shall not the toll of common days
      Add nobler lustre to thy bays ?

O Mighty Voice, whose words shall stand --
   When all our songs have ceased to be --
Steadfast, the watchwords of our land?
   The guide and torch of Liberty !
      The Master-Poet called afar,
      And thou at last hast found thy star.

First published
in The Brisbane Courier, 1 July 1902

The subject of this poem is J. Brunton Stephens (1835-1902).

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This page contains a single entry by Perry Middlemiss published on April 30, 2011 9:32 AM.

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