Classic and Contemporary Poetry
RED JACK, by MARY DURACK First Line: She rises clear to memory's eye Last Line: Went all their ways alone. Subject(s): Animals; Horses; Solitude; Women; Loneliness | ||||||||
SHE rises clear to memory's eye From mists of long ago, Though we met but once, in '98 In the days of Cobb and Co. 'Twas driving into Hughenden With mail and gold for load That I saw Red Jack, the wanderer, Come riding down the road. Red Jack and Mephistopheles They knew them far and wide, From Camooweal to Charters Towers, The route they used to ride. They knew them round the Selwyns where The Leichhardt has its source, Along the winding cattle ways A woman and a horse. And strange the tales they told of them Who ranged the dusty track: The great black Mephistopheles And the red-haired witch Red Jack. She claimed no name but that, they said, And owned no things but these: Her saddle, swag and riding-kit And Mephistopheles. And often travellers such as I Had seen, and thought it strange, A woman working on the line That crossed McKinlay Range. Had seen her in the dreary wake Of stock upon the plains, Her brown hand quick upon the whip And light upon the reins. With milling cattle in the yard Amid the dust-fouled air, With rope and knife and branding iron A girl with glowing hair. "Red Jack's as good as any man!" The settlers used to own; And some bold spirits sought her hand, But Red Jack rode alone. She rode alone, and wise men learned To set her virtue high, To weigh what skill she plied her whip With the hardness of her eye. I saw Red Jack in '98, The first time and the last, But her face, brown-gaunt, and her hair, red-bright, Still haunt me from the past. The coach drew in as she rode in sight; We passed the time of day; Then shuffled out the mail she sought And watched her ride away. And oh! her hair was living fire, But her eyes were cold as stone: Red Jack and Mephistopheles Went all their ways alone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN ABEYANCE by DENISE LEVERTOV IN A VACANT HOUSE by PHILIP LEVINE SUNDAY ALONE IN A FIFTH FLOOR APARTMENT, CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS by WILLIAM MATTHEWS SILENCE LIKE COOL SAND by PAT MORA THE HONEY BEAR by EILEEN MYLES |
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