Jack’s Last Muster (Barcroft Henry Boake Poems)
The first flush of grey light, the herald of daylight,Is dimly outlining the musterer's camp,Where over the sleeping, the stealthily ...
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 ...
Out on the wastes of the Never Never -That's where the dead men lie!There where the heat-waves dance forever -That's ...
Yes, there it hangs upon the wall And never gives a sound,The hand that trimmed its greenhide fall Is hidden ...
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