Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake

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

Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake Poems

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

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Best Poem of Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake

A Bushman's Love

You say we bushmen cannot love—
Our lives are too prosaic: hence
We lose or lack that finer sense
That raises some few men above
Their fellows, setting them apart
As vessels of a finer make—
The acme of the potter’s art—
Are placed apart upon the shelf.
So he is more than common delf,
And, more than brute in human guise,
Who, seeking, finds his nobler self
Twin-mirrored in a woman’s eyes!
Yet these things bring their penalty:
For oft the merest touch will break
These vessels of a finer make;
And throats attuned to noblest key
A draught of air ...

Read the full of A Bushman's Love

Where The Dead Men Lie

Out on the wastes of the Never Never -
That's where the dead men lie!
There where the heat-waves dance forever -
That's where the dead men lie!
That's where the Earth's loved sons are keeping
Endless tryst: not the west wind sweeping
Feverish pinions can wake their sleeping -
Out where the dead men lie!

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