William Henry Ogilvie

(21 August 1869 – 30 January 1963 / Kelso, Scotland)

William Henry Ogilvie Poems

41. A Little Bit Of Garden 4/7/2010
42. The Pearl Of Them All 4/7/2010
43. Running On! 4/7/2010
44. Our Pilots 4/7/2010
45. Hands! 4/7/2010
46. His Epitaph 4/7/2010
47. Our Heritage 4/7/2010
48. Harry Morant 4/7/2010
49. If I Were Old 4/7/2010
50. The True Sportsman 4/7/2010
51. Gone Away 4/7/2010
52. As I Wandered Home 4/7/2010
53. The Last Muster 1/1/2004
54. The Riding Of The Rebel 4/7/2010
55. The Horse Of Your Heart 4/7/2010
56. The Australian 1/1/2004
57. The Filling Of The Swamps 1/1/2004
58. His Gippsland Girl 1/1/2004
59. From The Gulf 1/1/2004
60. The Men Of The Open Spaces 4/7/2010
61. Foxhound Puppies 4/7/2010
62. The Bush, My Lover 1/1/2004
63. The Death Of Ben Hall 4/7/2010
64. Drought 1/1/2004
65. My Hat! 1/1/2004

Comments about William Henry Ogilvie

  • Bootlace Phil (9/13/2018 9:49:00 PM)

    Ogilvie what a Wonderful Poet, One of the Finest! can you Imagine He and Harry Morant Together? One wonders, Did they collaborate together When Versing? There is a Similarity Esp with Morants verse? ?

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Best Poem of William Henry Ogilvie

My Hat!

The hats of a man may be many

In the course of a varied career,

And some have been worth not a penny

And some have been devilish dear;

But there's one hat I always remember
When sitting alone by the fire.

In the depth of a Northern November,

Because it fulfilled my desire.



It was old, it was ragged and rotten

And many years out of mode,

Like a thing that a tramp had forgotten

And left at the side of a road.

The boughs of the mulga had torn it,

It's ribbon was naught but lace,

And old swaggie ...

Read the full of My Hat!

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.

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