THE HORSES STAY BEHIND
THE HORSES STAY BEHIND
In days to come we’ll wander west and cross the range again;We’ll hear the bush birds singing in the green trees after rain;We’ll canter through the Mitchell grass and breast the bracing wind:But we’ll have other horses. Our chargers stay behind.Around the fire at night we’ll yarn about old Sinai;We’ll fight our battles o’er again; and as the days go byThere’ll be old mates to greet us. The bush girls will be kindStill our thoughts will often wander to the horses left behind.Idon’t think I could stand the thought of my old fancy hackJust crawling round old Cairo with a ’Gyppo on his back.Perhaps some English tourist out in Palestine may findMy broken-hearted waler with a wooden plough behind.No; I think I’d better shoot him and tell a little lie:—“He floundered in a wombat hole and then lay down to die.”May be I’ll get court-martialled; but I’m damned if I’m inclinedTo go back to Australia and leave my horse behind.Trooper Bluegum.
In days to come we’ll wander west and cross the range again;We’ll hear the bush birds singing in the green trees after rain;We’ll canter through the Mitchell grass and breast the bracing wind:But we’ll have other horses. Our chargers stay behind.Around the fire at night we’ll yarn about old Sinai;We’ll fight our battles o’er again; and as the days go byThere’ll be old mates to greet us. The bush girls will be kindStill our thoughts will often wander to the horses left behind.Idon’t think I could stand the thought of my old fancy hackJust crawling round old Cairo with a ’Gyppo on his back.Perhaps some English tourist out in Palestine may findMy broken-hearted waler with a wooden plough behind.No; I think I’d better shoot him and tell a little lie:—“He floundered in a wombat hole and then lay down to die.”May be I’ll get court-martialled; but I’m damned if I’m inclinedTo go back to Australia and leave my horse behind.Trooper Bluegum.
In days to come we’ll wander west and cross the range again;We’ll hear the bush birds singing in the green trees after rain;We’ll canter through the Mitchell grass and breast the bracing wind:But we’ll have other horses. Our chargers stay behind.
In days to come we’ll wander west and cross the range again;
We’ll hear the bush birds singing in the green trees after rain;
We’ll canter through the Mitchell grass and breast the bracing wind:
But we’ll have other horses. Our chargers stay behind.
Around the fire at night we’ll yarn about old Sinai;We’ll fight our battles o’er again; and as the days go byThere’ll be old mates to greet us. The bush girls will be kindStill our thoughts will often wander to the horses left behind.
Around the fire at night we’ll yarn about old Sinai;
We’ll fight our battles o’er again; and as the days go by
There’ll be old mates to greet us. The bush girls will be kind
Still our thoughts will often wander to the horses left behind.
Idon’t think I could stand the thought of my old fancy hackJust crawling round old Cairo with a ’Gyppo on his back.Perhaps some English tourist out in Palestine may findMy broken-hearted waler with a wooden plough behind.
Idon’t think I could stand the thought of my old fancy hack
Just crawling round old Cairo with a ’Gyppo on his back.
Perhaps some English tourist out in Palestine may find
My broken-hearted waler with a wooden plough behind.
No; I think I’d better shoot him and tell a little lie:—“He floundered in a wombat hole and then lay down to die.”May be I’ll get court-martialled; but I’m damned if I’m inclinedTo go back to Australia and leave my horse behind.
No; I think I’d better shoot him and tell a little lie:—
“He floundered in a wombat hole and then lay down to die.”
May be I’ll get court-martialled; but I’m damned if I’m inclined
To go back to Australia and leave my horse behind.
Trooper Bluegum.
Trooper Bluegum.
EVENING AMONGST THE JUDEAN HILLS
EVENING AMONGST THE JUDEAN HILLS
EVENING AMONGST THE JUDEAN HILLS
A CAMP IN THE DESERTPhotos, in colour by Capt. Frank Hurley
A CAMP IN THE DESERTPhotos, in colour by Capt. Frank Hurley
A CAMP IN THE DESERTPhotos, in colour by Capt. Frank Hurley