George Essex Evans
George Essex Evans Poems
The Women Of The West
They left the vine-wreathed cottage and the mansion on the hill,
The houses in the busy streets where life is never still,
The pleasures of the city, and the friends they cherished best:
For love they faced the wilderness -- the Women of the West.
The roar, and rush, and fever of the city died away,
And the old-time joys and faces -- they were gone for many a day;
In their place the lurching coach-wheel, or the creaking bullock chains,
O'er the everlasting sameness of the never-ending plains.
In the slab-built, zinc-roofed homestead of some lately taken ...
Like weary sea-birds spent with flight
The slow hours beat across the night
On leaden wing.
The wild bird knows where rest shall be
Soe'er he roam.
Heart of my heart! apart from thee
I have no home.