Classic and Contemporary Poetry
WEST BY NORTH AGAIN, by HENRY (HARRY) HARBORD MORANT Poet's Biography First Line: We've drunk our wine, we've kissed our girls, and funds are sinking low Last Line: Or, if she jilts you, may you get a better in her place. Alternate Author Name(s): Breaker, The; Lumpkin, Tony Subject(s): Labor & Laborers; Travel; Work; Workers; Journeys; Trips | ||||||||
WE'VE drunk our wine, we've kissed our girls, and funds are sinking low, The horses must be thinking it's a fair thing now to go; Sling the swags on Condamine and strap the billies fast, And stuff a bottle in the bags and let's be off at last. What matter if the creeks are upthe cash, alas, runs down! A very sure and certain sign we're long enough in town. The nigger rides the boko, and you'd better take the bay, Quart Pot will do to carry me the stage we go today. No grass this side the Border fence! and all the mulga's dead! The horses for a day or two will have to spiel ahead; Man never yet from Queensland brought a bullock or a hack But lost condition on that God-abandoned Border track. When once we're through the rabbit-proofit's certain since the rain There's whips o' grass and water, so, it's West by North again! There's feed on Tyson's countrywe can "spell" the mokes a week Where Billy Stevens last year trapped his brumbies on Bough Creek. The Paroo may be quickly crossedthe Eulo Common's bare; And, anyhow, it isn't wise, old man! to dally there. Alack-a-day! far wiser men than you and I succumb To woman's wiles, and potency of Queensland wayside rum. Then over sand and spinifex and on, o'er ridge and plain! The nags are freshbesides, they know they're westward-bound again. The brand upon old Darkie's thigh is that upon the hide Of bullocks we must muster on the Diamantina side. We'll light our camp-fires where we may, and yarn beside their blaze; The jingling hobble-chains shall make a music through the days. And while the tucker-bags are right, and we've a stick of weed, A swagman shall be welcome to a pipe-full and a feed. So, fill your pipe! and, ere we mount, we'll drink another nip Here's how that West by North again may prove a lucky trip; Then back againI trust you'll find your best girl's merry face, Or, if she jilts you, may you get a better in her place. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RICHARD, WHAT'S THAT NOISE? by RICHARD HOWARD LOOKING FOR THE GULF MOTEL by RICHARD BLANCO RIVERS INTO SEAS by LYNDA HULL DESTINATIONS by JOSEPHINE JACOBSEN THE ONE WHO WAS DIFFERENT by RANDALL JARRELL THE CONFESSION OF ST. JIM-RALPH by DENIS JOHNSON SESTINA: TRAVEL NOTES by WELDON KEES TO H. B. (WITH A BOOK OF VERSE) by MAURICE BARING BEYOND HIS JURISDICTION by HENRY (HARRY) HARBORD MORANT SINCE THE COUNTRY CARRIED SHEEP by HENRY (HARRY) HARBORD MORANT |
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