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Adam Lindsay Gordon Poems

A collection of select Adam Lindsay Gordon famous poems that were written by Adam Lindsay Gordon or written about the poet by other famous poets. PoetrySoup is a comprehensive educational resource of the greatest poems and poets on history.

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by Gordon, Adam Lindsay
 Hold hard, Ned! Lift me down once more, and lay me in the shade. 
Old man, you've had your work cut out to guide 
Both horses, and to hold...Read More

by Gordon, Adam Lindsay
 THE last, late guest 
To the gate we followed; 
Goodbye -- and the rest 
The night-wind swallowed. 

House, garden, street, 
Lay tenfold gloomy, 
Where accents sweet 
Had made music...Read More

by Gordon, Adam Lindsay
 They are rhymes rudely strung with intent less 
Of sound than of words,
In lands where bright blossoms are scentless,
And songless bright birds;
Where, with fire and fierce drought on her...Read More

by Gordon, Adam Lindsay
 With short, sharp violent lights made vivid,
To the southward far as the sight can roam,
Only the swirl of the surges livid,
The seas that climb and the surfs that comb,
Only...Read More

by Gordon, Adam Lindsay
 The ocean heaves around us still
With long and measured swell,
The autumn gales our canvas fill,
Our ship rides smooth and well.
The broad Atlantic's bed of foam
Still breaks against our prow;
I...Read More

by Gordon, Adam Lindsay
 ALL is over! fleet career, 
Dash of greyhound slipping thongs, 
Flight of falcon, bound of deer, 
Mad hoof-thunder in our rear, 
Cold air rushing up our lungs, 
Din of...Read More

by Gordon, Adam Lindsay
 ‘WHERE shall we go for our garlands glad 
At the falling of the year, 
When the burnt-up banks are yellow and sad, 
When the boughs are yellow and sere?...Read More

by Gordon, Adam Lindsay
 IN Collins Street standeth a statute tall, 
A statue tall, on a pillar of stone, 
Telling its story, to great and small, 
Of the dust reclaimed from the sand...Read More

by Gordon, Adam Lindsay
 OH, gaily sings the bird! and the wattle-boughs are stirred 
And rustled by the scented breath of Spring; 
Oh, the dreary wistful longing! Oh, the faces that are thronging!...Read More

by Gordon, Adam Lindsay
 We severed in Autumn early,
Ere the earth was torn by the plough;
The wheat and the oats and the barley
Are ripe for the harvest now.
We sunder'd one misty morning
Ere the...Read More