[Editor: This poem by Philip Durham Lorimer was published in Songs and Verses by Philip Durham Lorimer: An Australian Bush Poet, 1901.]
The Last Gift
Take this flower, and when I leave thee,
Dwell upon its hues divine,
Nearest to thy heart then press it,
’Tis a gift from mine to thine.
Yes, I plucked it, love, this morning,
Ere the Earth could dry her tears,
Falling like the hopes of mortals
In that hour when death appears !
Let the gift be ever cherished,
As some treasured glory fled ;
Let our sacred love be written
On its leaves when I am dead.
Better friend comes not between us
Than the flower I culled in bloom ;
Daily let its memory rest, love,
On my heart within the tomb !
Seymour, Victoria, January 8, l890.
E. A. Petherick (editor). Songs and Verses by Philip Durham Lorimer: An Australian Bush Poet, William Clowes and Sons, London, 1901, page 119