Vonda Stanley's collection of early Australian bush poems

 

 

Henry Lawson 

And down towards the languid, sinking sun,

Along the winding, wattle-guarded track,

He passed, and left his heavy swag, as one

Who casts the weight of troubles from his back,

And leaves the world, and life, and care behind,

And onward fares,---to seek, and know, and find.

Perchance the Bush, in that last moment saw

Its minstrel, rapt and joyful, gliding on,

For all the trees bowed silent crests in awe,

And one lone song-bird mourned, when he had gone.

And when had sunk the fiery-hearted sun,

Australia's poet's pilgrimage was done.

He loved her well.  To her he gave his all,

For her he lived, and toiled, and spent his days,

And now, when there has come that quiet call,

Is it too late to deck his name with praise?

Ah! Westward, westward sank the dying sun,

And tear-dimmed stars marched forward one by one.

  R Guy Howarth