Read "The Poets of the Tomb" by Henry Lawson online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
The world has had enough of bards who wish that they were dead, 'Tis time the people passed a law to knock 'em on the head, For 'twould be lovely if their friends could grant the rest they crave -- Those bards of 'tears' and 'vanished hopes', those poets of the grave. They say that life's an awful thing, and full of care and gloom, They talk of peace and restfulness connected with the tomb.
They say that man is made of dirt, and die, of course, he must; But, all the same, a man is made of pretty solid dust. There is a thing that they forget, so let it here be writ, That some are made of common mud, and some are made of GRIT; Some try to help the world along while others fret and fume And wish that they were slumbering in the silence of the tomb.