In the Days When We Are Dead Henry Lawson, 1908 Listen! The end draws nearer,        Nearer the morning — or night — And I see with a vision clearer        That the beginning was right! These shall be words to remember        When all has been done and said, And my fame is a dying ember        In the days when I am dead. Listen! We wrote in sorrow,        And we wrote by candle light; We took no heed of the morrow,        And I think that we were right — (To-morrow, but not the day after,        And I think that we were right). We wrote of a world that was human        And we wrote of blood that was red, For a child, or a man, or a woman —        Remember when we are dead. Listen! We wrote not for money,        And listen! We wrote not for fame — We wrote for the milk and the honey        Of Kindness, and not for a name. We paused not, nor faltered for any,        Though many fell back where we led; We wrote of the few for the many —        Remember when we are dead. We suffered as few men suffer,        Yet laughed as few men laugh; We grin as the road grows rougher,        And a bitterer cup we quaff. We lived for Right and for Laughter,        And we fought for a Nation ahead — Remember it, friends, hereafter,        In the years when I am dead — For to-morrow and not the day after,        For ourselves, and a Nation ahead.