Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake

(26 March 1866 – May 1892 / Sydney / Australia)

Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake Poems

1. A Bushman's Love 1/1/2004
2. A Memory 1/1/2004
3. A Song 1/1/2004
4. A Song From A Sandhill 4/9/2010
5. A Valentine 4/9/2010
6. A Vision Out West 4/9/2010
7. A Wayside Queen 4/9/2010
8. An Allegory 1/1/2004
9. An Easter Rhyme 4/9/2010
10. At Devlin's Siding 1/1/2004
11. At The "J. C." 1/1/2004
12. Babs Malone 4/9/2010
13. Desiree 4/9/2010
14. Down The River 1/1/2004
15. Featherstonhaugh 1/1/2004
16. Fogarty's Gin 4/9/2010
17. From The Far West 4/9/2010
18. How Babs Malone Cut Down The Field 1/1/2004
19. How Polly Paid For Her Keep 1/1/2004
20. Jack Corrigan 1/1/2004
21. Jack's Last Muster 1/1/2004
22. Jimmy Wood 1/1/2004
23. Jim's Whip 1/1/2004
24. Josephus Riley 4/9/2010
25. Kelly's Conversion 4/9/2010
26. Kitty Mccrae - A Galloping Rhyme 1/1/2004
27. On The Boundary 1/1/2004
28. On The Range 1/1/2004
29. Our Visitor 1/1/2004
30. Skeeta ( An Old Servant's Tale ) 1/1/2004
31. The Babes In The Bush 4/9/2010
32. The Box-Tree's Love 4/9/2010
33. The Demon Snow-Shoes (A Legend Of Kiandra) 1/1/2004
34. The Digger's Song 1/1/2004
35. To A Hatpeg 4/9/2010
36. 'Twixt The Wings Of The Yard 1/1/2004
37. Where The Dead Men Lie 1/1/2004

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Best Poem of Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake

A Song From A Sandhill

Drip, drip, drip! It tinkles on the fly—
The pitiless outpouring of an overburdened sky:
Each drooping frond of pine has got a jewel at its tip—
First a twinkle, then a sprinkle, and a drip, drip, drip.

Drip, drip, drip! They must be shearing up on high.
Can't you see the snowy fleeces that are rolling, rolling by?
How many bales, I wonder, are they branding to the clip?
P'r'aps the Boss is keeping tally with this drip, drip, drip.

Drip, drip, drip! while the sodden branches sigh:
The jovial jackass dare not laugh for fear that he should cry:

Read the full of A Song From A Sandhill

Down The River

Hark, the sound of it drawing nearer,
Clink of hobble and brazen bell;
Mark the passage of stalwart shearer,
Bidding Monaro soil farewell.

Where is he making for? Down the river,
Down the river with eager tread;
Where is he making for? Down the river,
Down the river to seek a 'shed'.

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