To My Brother, Basil E. Kendall
To-night the sea sends up a gulf-like sound,And ancient rhymes are ringing in my head,The many lilts of song we sang and said,My friend and brother, when we journeyed roundOur haunts at Wollongong, that classic groundFor me at least, a lingerer deeply readAnd steeped in beauty. Oft in trance I treadThose shining shores, and hear your talk of FameWith thought-flushed face and heart so well assured(Beholding through the woodland’s bright distressThe Moon half pillaged of her loveliness)Of this wild dreamer: Had you but enduredA dubious dark, you might have won a nameWith brighter bays than I can ever claim.