Australian and Other Poems/The Drowned Hamlet
THE DROWNED HAMLET.
Up from his orient star-gemmed couch the sun, revived, arose,
And as beseemed a guardian true, his searching glance he throws
On all those scenes that court his care—stream, woodland, hill, and plain,
The first at morn to fix his look, the last at daylight's wane.
As lighted up his glowing face, his glance more warmly fell
Adown that scene where, scanning close, he saw that all was well;
And when at eve his parting rays give place to glimmering stars.
No sign he marks to dull his eye, no shade his gladness mars.
For all the land was deftly clad in sparkling June's array—
Australia's June, where spring's mild reign usurps warm summer's sway—
Bright blossoms thickly strewed the plain, the birds made gayest show,
The herbage filled luxuriant fields—men said they saw it grow.
And Gundagai! that twilight on no fairer scene did close;
Joyous to view thy rustic bliss the Murrumbidgee rose.
Careering past, his gallant flood, swelling, he seemed to say:—
"No fairer scene on all my banks gladdened my course to-day."
The twilight fast has darkened down into the gloom of night;
Through every vine-clad lattice gleams the taper's cheering light:
To seek relief from trivial cares the toilers forth repair,
The children round the matron group, to breathe the evening prayer.
The hour when Slumber claims her sway descends upon the scene,
Late-sitting guests, with gossip worn, are tending homewards seen,
No change, to note, the vale comes o'er, no fear the homes among.
The river, in his olden path, unswerving glides along.
The crescent night draws to its noon—amaze all hearts has thrilled;
The waters, rising, flood the floors—the town with cries is filled.
The mother, moaning, seeks her babes, whose limbs the waters lave.
The father plies his anxious skill to ward th' intruding wave.
Through all the night the danger grows, and when the morning beamed
How altered was the scene whereon the azure twilight streamed;
It seemed as though the Bow of Hope had lost its promised sway,
And that the earth, with all its tribes, its sins again should pay.
The sun arose, as erst he came, but not as erst the scene
Whereon his cheering rays descend. Instead of landscape green
A wide extending waste of wave gave back his light-some glance,
Where 'mid the perches of the birds the reckless eddies dance.
And clustering on each roof-top, spared to yield such sad relief,
Were seen the hamlet's household, fast thralled in spell of grief;
And in the trees were clinging some, with strength which faded fast,
And others, they had ceased to cling—their days were of the past.
A boat has left the desert shore, and see its oarsmen strong,
Against the rushing wreck and wave, make battle well and long.
That fragile bark, returning oft, receives the fainting host
Who 'scaped the flood, where haply all their best beloved were lost.
Give honour to those gallant men who fall in freedom's cause,
And to those men their meed of praise who war 'gainst wrongful laws;
But while all they who serve the weal requiting guerdons find,
Shall not the fate of those we sing full well be borne in mind?
They left the banks of Thames and Tweed and Etna's fern-rimmed mere,
And passed half earth's untraversed zone, new shrines and homes to rear;
They fought the fight of sternest life, with steady heart and hand.
And left their fate to landmark an unmonumented land.
When deep and rapid comes the flood by hamlets free from fear,
And when the rivers' lessening banks speak an abundant year.
Then, then shall Memory summon up the kindly tear and sigh,
For those whose fate has saddened o'er the name of Gundagai.