# Names Upon a Stone

Subtitled: "(Inscribed to G. L. Fagan, Esq.)"
Across bleak widths of broken sea  A fierce north-easter breaks, And makes a thunder on the lea —  A whiteness of the lakes. Here, while beyond the rainy stream  The wild winds sobbing blow, I see the river of my dream  Four wasted years ago.
Narrara of the waterfalls,  The darling of the hills, Whose home is under mountain walls  By many-luted rills! Her bright green nooks and channels cool  I never more may see; But, ah! the Past was beautiful —  The sights that used to be.
There was a rock-pool in a glen  Beyond Narrara's sands; The mountains shut it in from men  In flowerful fairy lands; But once we found its dwelling-place —  The lovely and the lone — And, in a dream, I stooped to trace  Our names upon a stone.
Above us, where the star-like moss  Shone on the wet, green wall That spanned the straitened stream across,  We saw the waterfall — A silver singer far away,  By folded hills and hoar; Its voice is in the woods to-day —  A voice I hear no more.
I wonder if the leaves that screen  The rock-pool of the past Are yet as soft and cool and green  As when we saw them last! I wonder if that tender thing,  The moss, has overgrown The letters by the limpid spring —  Our names upon the stone!
Across the face of scenes we know  There may have come a change — The places seen four years ago  Perhaps would now look strange. To you, indeed, they cannot be  What haply once they were: A friend beloved by you and me  No more will greet us there.
Because I know the filial grief  That shrinks beneath the touch — The noble love whose words are brief —  I will not say too much; But often when the night-winds strike  Across the sighing rills, I think of him whose life was like  The rock-pool's in the hills.
A beauty like the light of song  Is in my dreams, that show The grand old man who lived so long  As spotless as the snow. A fitting garland for the dead  I cannot compass yet; But many things he did and said  I never will forget.
In dells where once we used to rove  The slow, sad water grieves; And ever comes from glimmering grove  The liturgy of leaves. But time and toil have marked my face,  My heart has older grown Since, in the woods, I stooped to trace  Our names upon the stone.
This work is in the public domain in Australia because it was created in Australia and the term of copyright has expired. According to Australian Copyright Council - Duration of Copyright, the following works are public domain:
* published non-government works whose author died before January 1, 1955,
* anonymous or pseudonymous works and photographs published before January 1, 1955, and
* government works published more than 50 years ago (before January 1, 1974).
This work is also in the public domain in the United States because it was first published outside the United States (and not published in the U.S. within 30 days), and it was first published before 1989 without complying with U.S. copyright formalities (renewal and/or copyright notice) and it was in the public domain in Australia on the URAA date (January 1, 1996). This is the combined effect of Australia having joined the Berne Convention in 1928, and of 17 USC 104A with its critical date of January 1, 1996.
Because the Australian copyright term in 1996 was 50 years, the critical date for copyright in the United States under the URAA is January 1, 1946.
This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse