Poems of a Life

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K. Paul, Trench, 1885 - 109 pages
 

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Page 100 - To report an old ewe that was ill of the rot; And a poor, wry-necked lamb that we kept for a pet, And he said it was treason such things to forget. The Commissioner pounded my cattle, because They had mumbled the scrub with their famishing jaws On the part of the run he had taken away, And he sold them by auction the cost to defray.
Page 101 - But from fear of my licence I said not a word, For I knew it was gone if the Government heard. The commissioner's bosom with anger was filled Against me because my poor shepherd was killed ; So he straight took away the last third of my run, And got it transferred to the name of his son. The son had from Cambridge been lately expelled, And his licence for preaching most justly withheld ! But this is no cause, the commissioner says, Why he should not be fit for my licence to graze.
Page 104 - Then mount, lady, mount, to the wilderness fly, My stores are laid in, and my shearing is nigh, And our steeds, that through Sydney exultingly wheel, Must graze in a week on the banks of the Peel.
Page 99 - TOE commissioner bet me a pony — I won, So he cut off exactly two-thirds of my run ; For he said I was making a fortune too fast, And profit gained slower the longer would last. He remarked, as devouring my mutton he sat, That I suffered my sheep to grow sadly too fat ; That they wasted...
Page 33 - How blessed the land where Barney's gentle sway Spontaneous felons joyfully obey ; Where twelve bright bayonets only can suffice To check the wild exuberance of vice ! Where thieves shall work at trades with none to buy, And stores unguarded pass unrifled by ; Strong in their new-found rectitude of soul, Tame without law, and good without control...
Page 100 - For they'd robbed it themselves had the border police ! When the white thieves had left me the black thieves appeared, My shepherds they waddied, my cattle they speared ; But for fear of my licence I said not a word, For I knew it was gone if the Government heard. The Commissioner's bosom with anger was...
Page 40 - ... discontent Bore noonday's burning sun, and midnight's chill, The scanty meal, the journey lengthening still; Lavished her scanty store on their distress, And sought no other guerdon than success. Say ye who hold the balance and the sword, Into your lap the wealth of nations poured, What have you done with all your hireling brood, Compared with her the generous and the good?
Page 100 - When the white thieves had left me the black thieves appeared, My shepherds they waddied, my cattle they speared ; But for fear of my licence I said not a word, For I knew it was gone if the Government heard. The Commissioner's bosom with anger was filled Against me, because my poor shepherd was killed ; So he straight took away the last third of my run, And got it transferred to the name of his son.
Page 26 - Is life a good ? Then, if a good it be, Mine be a life like thine, thou steadfast tree. The selfsame earth that gave the sapling place, Receives the mouldering trunk in soft embrace ; The selfsame comrades ever at thy side, Who...
Page 102 - Is the length of our way; It is done in a week At but sixty a day. The plains are all dusty, The creeks are all dried; 'Tis the fairest of weather To bring home my bride. The whizzing musquito Shall dance o'er thy head, And the guana shall squat At the foot of thy bed. The brave laughing jackass Shall sing thee to sleep, And a snake o'er thy slumbers His vigils shall keep.

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