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. Running On! 4/7/2010
43. Our Pilots 4/7/2010
44. Hands! 4/7/2010
45. His Epitaph 4/7/2010
46. Our Heritage 4/7/2010
47. If I Were Old 4/7/2010
48. The True Sportsman 4/7/2010
49. Gone Away 4/7/2010
50. Harry Morant 4/7/2010
51. As I Wandered Home 4/7/2010
52. The Pearl Of Them All 4/7/2010
53. The Men Of The Open Spaces 4/7/2010
54. The Last Muster 1/1/2004
55. The Filling Of The Swamps 1/1/2004
56. The Riding Of The Rebel 4/7/2010
57. The Horse Of Your Heart 4/7/2010
58. His Gippsland Girl 1/1/2004
59. From The Gulf 1/1/2004
60. The Australian 1/1/2004
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

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  • 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 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