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In Collins Street Standeth A Statute Tall A

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 Waste Lone
Weary And Wasted And Worn And Wan
Feeble And Faint And Languid And Low
He Lay On The Desert A Dying Man
Who Has Gone My Friends Where We All Must Go.

There Are Perils By Land And Perils By Water
Short I Ween Are The Obsequies
Of The Landsman Lost But They May Be Shorter
With The Mariner Lost In The Trackless Seas
And Well For Him When The Timbers Start
And The Stout Ship Reels And Settles Below
Who Goes To His Doom With As Bold A Heart
As That Dead Man Gone Where We All Must Go.

Man Is Stubborn His Rights To Yield
And Redder Than Dews At Eventide
Are The Dews Of Battle Shed On The Field
By A Nation"S Wrath Or A Despot"S Pride
But Few Who Have Heard Their Death Knell Roll
From The Cannon"S Lips Where They Faced The Foe
Have Fallen As Stout And Steady Of Soul
As That Dead Man Gone Where We All Must Go.

Traverse Yon Spacious Burial Ground
Many Are Sleeping Soundly There
Who Pass"D With Mourners Standing Around
Kindred And Friends And Children Fair
Did He Envy Such Ending? "Twere Hard To Say
Had He Cause To Envy Such Ending? No
Can The Spirit Feel For The Senseless Clay
When It Once Has Gone Where We All Must Go?

What Matters The Sand Or The Whitening Chalk
The Blighted Herbage The Black"Ning Log
The Crooked Beak Of The Eagle Hawk
Or The Hot Red Tongue Of The Native Dog?
That Couch Was Rugged Those Sextons Rude
Yet In Spite Of A Leaden Shroud We Know
That The Bravest And Fairest Are Earth Worms" Food
When Once They"Ve Gone Where We All Must Go.

With The Pistol Clenched In His Failing Hand
With The Death Mist Spread O"Er His Fading Eyes
He Saw The Sun Go Down On The Sand
And He Slept And Never Saw It Rise
"Twas Well He Toil"D Till His Task Was Done
Constant And Calm In His Latest Throe
The Storm Was Weathered The Battle Was Won
When He Went My Friends Where We All Must Go.

God Grant That Whenever Soon Or Late
Our Course Is Run And Our Goal Is Reach"D
We May Meet Our Fate As Steady And Straight
As He Whose Bones In Yon Desert Bleach"D
No Tears Are Needed—Our Cheeks Are Dry
We Have None To Waste Upon Living Woe
Shall We Sigh For One Who Has Ceased To Sigh
Having Gone My Friends Where We All Must Go?

We Tarry Yet We Are Toiling Still
He Is Gone And He Fares The Best
He Fought Against Odds He Struggled Up Hill
He Has Fairly Earned His Season Of Rest
No Tears Are Needed—Fill Our The Wine
Let The Goblets Clash And The Grape Juice Flow
Ho Pledge Me A Death Drink Comrade Mine
To A Brave Man Gone Where We All Must Go..

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by:- admin posted in:- adam lindsay gordon

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