Were we but sure, there were no hereafter!
Certain and sure, that never again,
Now skies could echo our sighs and our laughter,
Heedless alike of our pleasure or pain.
Were we but sure, that never a morrow,
Could dawn on the silence and darkness of death;
How many a sufferer -- saddened with sorrow --
Would sigh forth for ever, life's fluttering breath.
Could we be certain of never awaking
From life's last peaceable pulseless sleep,
How many a swimmer whose strength is breaking
Would quietly sink down Eternity's deep.
For who would struggle, worn out and weary,
With the dregs of a life which has nought to give
Save troubles and trials and days grown dreary
If he ceased to live, when he ceased to live?
First published in The Australian Town and Country Journal, 11 October 1879
Author reference site: Austlit
See also.
Certain and sure, that never again,
Now skies could echo our sighs and our laughter,
Heedless alike of our pleasure or pain.
Were we but sure, that never a morrow,
Could dawn on the silence and darkness of death;
How many a sufferer -- saddened with sorrow --
Would sigh forth for ever, life's fluttering breath.
Could we be certain of never awaking
From life's last peaceable pulseless sleep,
How many a swimmer whose strength is breaking
Would quietly sink down Eternity's deep.
For who would struggle, worn out and weary,
With the dregs of a life which has nought to give
Save troubles and trials and days grown dreary
If he ceased to live, when he ceased to live?
First published in The Australian Town and Country Journal, 11 October 1879
Author reference site: Austlit
See also.
