Posted by: Oklahoma Sun | March 16, 2010

The Stockman’s Last Bed.

The Stockman’s Last Bed.


Anonymous. “Bush Songs,” A Century of Australian Song, 1888.

 

I.
WHETHER stockman or not,
For a moment give ear—
Poor Jack, he is dead,
And no more shall we hear
The crack of his whip,
Or his steed’s lively trot,
His clear “go ahead,”
Or his jingling quart pot.
For he sleeps where the wattles
Their sweet fragrance shed,
And tall gum-trees shadow
The Stockman’s last bed!

II.
One day, while out yarding,
He was gored by a steer.
“Alas!” cried poor Jack,
“‘Tis all up with me here;”
And never shall I
The saddle regain,
Or bound like a wallaby
Over the plain.
So they’ve laid him where wattles
Their sweet fragrance shed,
And tall gum-trees shadow
The Stockman’s last bed!

III.
His whip at his side,
His dogs they all mourn,
His horse stands awaiting
His master’s return;
While he lies neglected,—
Unheeded he dies;
Save Australia’s dark children,
None knows where he lies;
For he sleeps where the wattles
Their sweet fragrance shed,
And tall gum-trees shadow
The Stockman’s last bed!.

IV.
Then, Stockman, if ever,
On some future day,
While following a mob,
You should happen to stray—
Oh! pause by the spot!
Where poor Jack’s bones are laid,
Far, far from the home
Where in childhood he strayed.
And tread softly where wattles
Their sweet fragrance shed,
And tall gum-trees shadow
The Stockman’s last bed.

Advertisements

Categories