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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408528" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Dirge of Joy</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh! this is a joyful dirge, my friends, and this is a hymn of praise;<br>And this is a clamour of Victory, and a pæan of Ancient Days.<br>It isn’t a Yelp of the Battlefield; nor a Howl of the Bounding Wave,<br>But an ode to the Things that the War has Killed, and a lay of the Festive Grave.<br>’Tis a triolet of the Tomb, you bet, and a whoop because of Despair,<br>And it’s sung as I stand on my hoary head and wave my legs in the air! <br>Oh! I dance on the grave of the Suffragette (I dance on my hands and dome),<br>And the Sanctity-of-the-Marriage-Tie and the Breaking-Up-of-the-Home.<br>And I dance on the grave of the weird White-Slave that died when the war began;<br>And Better-Protection-for-Women-and-Girls, and Men-Made-Laws-for-Man! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, I dance on the Liberal Lady’s grave and the Labour Woman’s, too;<br>And the grave of the Female lie and shriek, with a dance that is wild and new.<br>And my only regret in this song-a-let as I dance over dale and hill,<br>Is the Yarn-of-the-Wife and the Tale-of-the-Girl that never a war can kill. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, I dance on the grave of the want-ter-write, and I dance on the Tomb of the Sneer,<br>And poet-and-author-and-critic, too, who used to be great round here.<br>But “Old Mother Often” (“Mother of Ten”) and “Parent” escaped from the grave—<br>And “Pro Bono Publico” liveth again, as “Victis,” or “Honour the Brave.” </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, lightly I danced upon Politics’ grave where the Friend of the Candidate slept,<br>And over the Female Political Devil, oh wildly I bounded and leapt.<br>But this dance shall be nothing compared with the dance of the spook of the writer who sings<br>On the grave of the bard and the Bulletin’s grave, out there at the Finish of Things!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Lawson">Henry Lawson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408528" data-title="A Dirge of Joy de Henry Lawson" data-description="Oh! this is a joyful dirge, my friends, and this is a hymn of praise;
And this is a clamour of Victory, and a pæan of Ancient Days.
It isn’t a Yelp of the Battlefield; nor a Howl of the Bounding Wave,
But an ode to the Things that the War has K..."></div>
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