voices from the past


The Days of Delight

by Rex Ingamells (1913-1955)

Australian writer

T hree old men
In drear desolation,
Shaking their heads
In shrill conversation:

“Gone!” cries one,
“Forever!” another;
“The days of delight
They are gone,” wails the other.

“Strange lost dreams!
The things that we cherished
Were nothing but dreams,”
All cry, “and have perished.

“Forsaken we mourn
The days that are vanished;
Strangers have robbed us,
Our children are banished.

“No more smile we
On their artless playtime,
While they chatter and laugh
Through the azure daytime.

“No more in the pride
Of strength unstinted,
Here where the sun
On their limbs has glinted,
They race and leap,
Their laughter pealing
From the break of dawn
Till the stars come stealing.

“When the stars shine down
Through the rifts at night,
And when they shine
With unveiled light,
No more our children,
In our safe keeping,
Revel awhile
Then turn to their sleeping.

“Forsaken we stand,
Our happiness vanished;
Forsaken we mourn
Our children banished.

“And our brothers and sisters
Are taken,” they chorus,
“Together we wait
The fate that is for us.”

Three old men
In drear desolation,
Shaking their heads
In shrill conversation:

Three gaunt gums
Standing together,
By the hurrying stream
In this windy weather.

About the Author

See our page on Rex Ingamells. Includes a linked list of all his writing available on our website.

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