Skeeta ( An Old Servant’s Tale ) (Barcroft Henry Boake Poems)
Our Skeeta was married, our Skeeta! the tomboy and pet of the ...
Our Skeeta was married, our Skeeta! the tomboy and pet of the ...
On Nungar the mists of the morning hung low,The beetle-browed hills brooded silent and black,Not yet warmed to life by ...
Long time beside the squatter's gate A great grey Box-Tree, early, late, Or shine or rain, in silence there Had ...
Far reaching down's a solid sea sunk everlastingly to rest, And yet whose billows seem to be for ever heaving ...
The first flush of grey light, the herald of daylight,Is dimly outlining the musterer's camp,Where over the sleeping, the stealthily ...
She was born in the season of fire, When a mantle of murkiness lay On the front of the crimson ...
A Valentine The Bree was up; the floods were out Around the hut of Culgo Jim: The hand of God ...
Drip, drip, drip! It tinkles on the fly- The pitiless outpouring of an overburdened sky: Each drooping frond of pine ...
You say we bushmen cannot love-Our lives are too prosaic: henceWe lose or lack that finer senseThat raises some few ...
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