William Henry Ogilvie

(21 August 1869 – 30 January 1963 / Kelso, Scotland)

William Henry Ogilvie Poems

1. The Opening Run 4/7/2010
2. The Queen Of Yore 4/7/2010
3. Skyline Tommy 4/7/2010
4. Queensland Opal 4/7/2010
5. Witchery Knows! 4/7/2010
6. The Music Of The Chase 4/7/2010
7. English Grass 4/7/2010
8. The Battered Brigade 4/7/2010
9. The Right Sort 4/7/2010
10. The Happiest Man In England 4/7/2010
11. Biddy, Be Kind! 4/7/2010
12. Riderless 4/7/2010
13. The Game Of Our Hearts 4/7/2010
14. War Heel! 4/7/2010
15. Wind O' The Autumn 4/7/2010
16. The Straight Goer 4/7/2010
17. To One Of Our Wounded 4/7/2010
18. The First Flight 4/7/2010
19. The Huntsman's Horse 4/7/2010
20. The Pilot 4/7/2010
21. The Stable Path 4/7/2010
22. As They Come 4/7/2010
23. The Man To Follow 4/7/2010
24. Tom Moody 4/7/2010
25. Daffodils 4/7/2010
26. Colour 4/7/2010
27. The Veteran 4/7/2010
28. The Call 4/7/2010
29. Canadians 4/7/2010
30. Yonder He Goes! 4/7/2010
31. The Artist 4/7/2010
32. The Second Whip Explains 4/7/2010
33. The Shadow On The Blind 4/7/2010
34. Hounds Going Home In The Dark 4/7/2010
35. The Stockyard Liar 4/7/2010
36. Once We Went Gaily 4/7/2010
37. A Gallop From The Train 4/7/2010
38. Comrades 0' Mine 4/7/2010
39. The Pearl Of Them All 4/7/2010
40. The Last Fence 4/7/2010
Best Poem of William Henry Ogilvie

My Hat!

The hats of a man may be many

In the course of a varied career,

And some have been worth not a penny

And some have been devilish dear;

But there's one hat I always remember
When sitting alone by the fire.

In the depth of a Northern November,

Because it fulfilled my desire.



It was old, it was ragged and rotten

And many years out of mode,

Like a thing that a tramp had forgotten

And left at the side of a road.

The boughs of the mulga had torn it,

It's ribbon was naught but lace,

And old swaggie ...

Read the full of My Hat!

From The Gulf

Store cattle from Nelanjie! The mob goes feeding past,
With half-a-mile of sandhill 'twixt the leaders and the last;
The nags that move behind them are the good old Queensland stamp-
Short backs and perfect shoulders that are priceless on a camp;
And these are men that ride them, broad-cheated, tanned, and tall,
The bravest hearts amongst us and the lightest hands of all:
Oh, let them wade in Wonga grass and taste the Wonga dew,
And let them spread, those thousand head-for we've be

[Hata Bildir]