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 Artist 4/7/2010
9. The Battered Brigade 4/7/2010
10. The Right Sort 4/7/2010
11. The Happiest Man In England 4/7/2010
12. Biddy, Be Kind! 4/7/2010
13. Riderless 4/7/2010
14. The Game Of Our Hearts 4/7/2010
15. War Heel! 4/7/2010
16. Wind O' The Autumn 4/7/2010
17. The Straight Goer 4/7/2010
18. To One Of Our Wounded 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 Second Whip Explains 4/7/2010
32. The Shadow On The Blind 4/7/2010
33. Hounds Going Home In The Dark 4/7/2010
34. The First Flight 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 Last Fence 4/7/2010
40. Hounds! 4/7/2010

Comments about William Henry Ogilvie

There is no comment submitted by members..
Best Poem of William Henry Ogilvie

Drought

My road is fenced with the bleached, white bones
And strewn with the blind, white sand,
Beside me a suffering, dumb world moans
On the breast of a lonely land.
On the rim of the world the lightnings play,
The heat-waves quiver and dance,
And the breath of the wind is a sword to slay
And the sunbeams each a lance.

I have withered the grass where my hot hoofs tread,
I have whitened the sapless trees,
I have driven the faint-heart rains ahead
To hide in their soft green seas.

I have bound the plains with an iron band,
I have stricken the...

Read the full of Drought

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

[Report Error]