July by A. J. Rolfe

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   Ah! if thy fate, with anguish fraught,
   Should be to wet the dusty soi
   With the hot tears and sweat of toil,
   Remember in that perilous hour,
   When most afflicted and oppressed,
   From labour there shall come forth rest.


The sun has set; over the purple hills
   A golden streak of glory slowly dies;
The rustling leaves and gently flowing rills
   Murmur sweet music to the peaceful skies,
And as the last faint gleam of light departs
   The sentinels of heaven peerless shine;
Oblivion soothes the cares of aching hearts
   That for a respite from their sorrows pine.
O restful night, bear on thy silent wings
   A song to soothe our restless souls with peace;
A peace that in our weary wanderings
   Shall lead us to the Land where sorrows cease.
And let thy gem-like stars, Faith, Hope, and Love,
Shine on our road to perfect rest above.

First published in The Queenslander, 2 July 1892;
and later in:
A Sheaf of Sonnets by A. J. Rolfe, 1892

Note: this poem in the seventh in a sequence of poems that the author wrote about each month of the year.

Author reference sites: Austlit

See also.

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This page contains a single entry by Perry Middlemiss published on July 2, 2011 8:19 AM.

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