Victor

And his death came in December, When our summer was aglow— Like a song that we remember, Like a child’s dream long ago, And it brought Australia to him, Her sweetest singer dead, While in silence friends who knew him Bowed their heads beside his bed. Angel Death comes softly stealing When the watchers’ eyes are dim, And, when all has failed in healing Wounded heart or helpless limb— With a whisper we may hear not ’Till with “Adsum” we respond, And a vision we shall fear not Of the Peaceful Land beyond. While Australians in their blindness Fail to realize their loss, Place the wreath of loving kindness And raise the simple cross. For he taught us to be brothers And he taught us to be brave— And we’ll banish pride and envy With a hand-clasp by his grave.