Vonda Stanley's collection of early Australian bush poems
So
you rode from the range where your brothers “select,”
Through
the ghostly grey bush in the dawn---
You
rode slowly at first, lest her heart should suspect
That
you were glad to be gone;
You
had scarcely the courage to glance back at her
By
the homestead receding from view,
And
you breathed with relief as you rounded the spur,
For
the world was a wide world to you.
Grey
eyes that grow sadder than sunset or rain,
Fond
heart that is ever more true
Firm
faith that grows firmer for watching in vain---
She’ll
wait by the sliprails for you.
Henry Lawson