Henry Lawson

Grenfell, New South Wales
Henry Lawson
Grenfell, New South Wales
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Out On The Roofs Of Hell

Rating: 3.0
SING us a song in this cynical age,
Sing us a song, my friend,
While the Flesh and the Devil are all the rage
And Death seems the only end.
Give it the clatter of hoof-clipped bones
And a note like a dingo’s yell,
And the long, low sigh when the big mob moans
Out on the roofs of hell.

For Wool, Tallow, and Hides and Co.,
For Wool, Tallow, and Hides—
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COMMENTS
Ratnakar Mandlik 29 October 2016
A stunning poem originating through a fantastic imagery. Thanks for sharing it here.
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Kevin Patrick 29 October 2016
Brutal, bleak, broken, that's what it feels like from reading these words, Lawson vividly paints the outback as the ultimate living purgatory that tortures mans very existence. There's an assize movie called Wake in Fright, the film is the essence of this poem, the broken spirits of men, whose lives are made up of drinking, fighting, pillaging, because there is no salvation found. Wonderful work
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