The camp-fire gleams resistance
To every twinkling star;
The horse-bells in the distance
Are jangling faint and far;
...
The hats of a man may be many
In the course of a varied career,
...
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.
...
Ben Hall was out on Lachlans side
With a thousand pounds on his head;
A score of troopers were scattered wide
...
Great big lolloping lovable things!
Rolling and tumbling on every lawn,
Tearing at slippers and bones and wings-
...
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;
...
Now, money was scarce and work was slack
And love to his heart Crept in,
And he rode away on the Northern track
To war with the world and win;
...
The skies that arched his land were blue,
His bush-born winds were warm and sweet,
...
When you've ridden a four-year-old half of the day
And, foam to the fetlock, they lead him away,
...
He was the Red Creek overseer, a trusted man and true,
Whose shoulder never left the wheel when there was work to do;
...