The Lost Leichardt

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1. Lost in the Prairie In one of fhe States of America, some years ago, There suddenly came on a violent storm of snow, Which was nearly the death of a party of workmen, Who had finished their day’s work – nine or ten of them. The distance was nearly twenty miles to their camp, And with the thick falling […]...
2. COMFORT TO A YOUTH THAT HAD LOST HIS LOVE What needs complaints, When she a place Has with the race Of saints? In endless mirth, She thinks not on What’s said or done In earth: She sees no tears, Or any tone Of thy deep groan She hears; Nor does she mind, Or think on’t now, That ever thou Wast kind: But changed above, […]...
3. Lost “He ought to be home,” said the old man, “without there’s something amiss. He only went to the Two-mile he ought to be back by this. He would ride the Reckless filly, he would have his wilful way; And, here, he’s not back at sundown and what will his mother say? “He was always his […]...
4. The Dead Man Walking They hail me as one living, But don’t they know That I have died of late years, Untombed although? I am but a shape that stands here, A pulseless mould, A pale past picture, screening Ashes gone cold. Not at a minute’s warning, Not in a loud hour, For me ceased Time’s enchantments In hall […]...
5. On Mr. Milton's Paradise Lost When I beheld the Poet blind, yet bold, In slender Book his vast Design unfold, Messiah Crown’d, Gods Reconcil’d Decree, Rebelling Angels, the Forbidden Tree, Heav’n, Hell, Earth, Chaos, All; the Argument Held me a while misdoubting his Intent, That he would ruine (for I saw him strong) The sacred Truths to Fable and old […]...
6. The Living Lost Matron! the children of whose love, Each to his grave, in youth have passed, And now the mould is heaped above The dearest and the last! Bride! who dost wear the widow’s veil Before the wedding flowers are pale! Ye deem the human heart endures No deeper, bitterer grief than yours. Yet there are pangs […]...
7. Travellers Whom We Met Another fork away ahead Exactly like the one behind And twists and turns to leave you dead As choices in your mind. We’ve travelled here before you know And had this conversation yet We learned a way to ask for more Than empty signposts that we met. Of travellers whom we met And journeys we […]...
8. Having Lost My Sons, I Confront The Wreckage Of The Moon: Christmas, 1960 After dark Near the South Dakota border, The moon is out hunting, everywhere, Delivering fire, And walking down hallways Of a diamond. Behind a tree, It ights on the ruins Of a white city Frost, frost. Where are they gone Who lived there? Bundled away under wings And dark faces. I am sick Of it, […]...
9. At San Sebastian The Countess sprawled beside the sea As naked a she well could be; Indeed her only garments were A “G” string and a brassière Her washerwoman was amazed, And at the lady gazed and gazed, – From billowy-bosom swell To navel like a pink sea shell. The Countess has of robes three score, She doffs […]...
10. Bindle Stiff When I was brash and gallant-gay Just fifty years ago, I hit the ties and beat my way From Maine to Mexico; For though to Glasgow gutter bred A hobo heart had I, And followed where adventure led, Beneath a brazen sky. And as I tramped the railway track I owned a single shirt; Like […]...
11. Eugene Carman Rhodes’ slave! Selling shoes and gingham, Flour and bacon, overalls, clothing, all day long For fourteen hours a day for three hundred and thirteen days For more than twenty years. Saying “Yes’m” and “Yes, sir”, and “Thank you” A thousand times a day, and all for fifty dollars a month. Living in this stinking room […]...
12. Edith Conant We stand about this place we, the memories; And shade our eyes because we dread to read: “June 17th, 1884, aged 21 years and 3 days.” And all things are changed. And we we, the memories, stand here for ourselves alone, For no eye marks us, or would know why we are here. Your husband […]...
13. In Harbor A young man, twenty eight years old, on a vessel from Tenos, Emes arrived at this Syrian harbor With the intention of learning the perfume trade. But during the voyage he was taken ill. And as soon As he disembarked, he died. His burial, the poorest, Took place here. A few hours before he died, […]...
14. The Gundaroo Bullock Oh, there’s some that breeds the Devon that’s as solid as a stone, And there’s some that breeds the brindle which they call the “Goulburn Roan”; But amongst the breeds of cattle there are very, very few Like the hairy-whiskered bullock that they breed at Gundaroo. Far away by Grabben Gullen, where the Murrumbidgee flows, […]...
15. Sonnet XVI ONe day as I vnwarily did gaze On those fayre eyes my loues immortall light: The whiles my stonisht hart stood in amaze, Through sweet illusion of her lookes delight. I mote perceiue how in her glauncing sight, Legions of loues with little wings did fly: Darting their deadly arrowes fyry bright At euery rash […]...
16. Saltbush Bill's Second Flight The news came down on the Castlereagh, and went to the world at large, That twenty thousand travelling sheep, with Saltbush Bill in charge, Were drifting down from a dried-out run to ravage the Castlereagh; And the squatters swore when they heard the news, and wished they were well away: For the name and the […]...
17. Strong Beer “What do you think The bravest drink Under the sky?” “Strong beer,” said I. “There’s a place for everything, Everything, anything, There’s a place for everything Where it ought to be: For a chicken, the hen’s wing; For poison, the bee’s sting; For almond-blossom, Spring; A beerhouse for me.” “There’s a prize for every one […]...
18. That V. C ‘Twas in the days of front attack; This glorious truth we’d yet to learn it That every “front” has got a back. And French was just the man to turn it. A wounded soldier on the ground Was lying hid behind a hummock; He proved the good old proverb sound An army travels on its […]...
19. Twilight So Mary died last night! To-day The news has travelled here. And Robert died at Michaelmas, And Walter died last year. I went at sunset up the lane, I lingered by the stile; I saw the dusky fields that stretched Before me many a mile. I leaned against the stile, and thought Of her whose […]...
20. No Beer, No Work The shades of night was fallin’ slow As through New York a guy did go And nail on ev’ry barroom door A card that this here motter bore: “No beer, no work.” His brow was sad, his mouth was dry; It was the first day of July, And where, all parched and scorched it hung, […]...
21. The Scorcher and the Howling Swell The Scorcher and the Howling Swell were riding through the land; They wept like anything to see the hills on every hand; “If these were only levelled down,” they said, “it would be grand.” “If every bloke that rides a bike put in a half-a-crown, Do you suppose,” the Scorcher said, “that that would cut […]...
22. Archibald's Example Old Archibald, in his eternal chair, Where trespassers, whatever their degree, Were soon frowned out again, was looking off Across the clover when he said to me: “My green hill yonder, where the sun goes down Without a scratch, was once inhabited By trees that injured him-an evil trash That made a cage, and held […]...
23. The Lost Ingredient Almost yesterday, those gentle ladies stole To their baths in Atlantic Cuty, for the lost Rites of the first sea of the first salt Running from a faucet. I have heard they sat For hours in briny tubs, patting hotel towels Sweetly over shivered skin, smelling the stale Harbor of a lost ocean, praying at […]...
24. A Western Ballad When I died, love, when I died My heart was broken in your care; I never suffered love so fair As now I suffer and abide When I died, love, when I died. When I died, love, when I died I wearied in an endless maze That men have walked for centuries, As endless as […]...
25. Losses It was not dying: everybody died. It was not dying: we had died before In the routine crashes and our fields Called up the papers, wrote home to our folks, And the rates rose, all because of us. We died on the wrong page of the almanac, Scattered on mountains fifty miles away; Diving on […]...
26. Bob's Lane Women he liked, did shovel-bearded Bob, Old Farmer Hayward of the Heath, but he Loved horses. He himself was like a cob And leather-coloured. Also he loved a tree. For the life in them he loved most living things, But a tree chiefly. All along the lane He planted elms where now the stormcock sings […]...
27. Dream Song 104: Welcome, grinned Henry, welcome, fifty-one! Welcome, grinned Henry, welcome, fifty-one! I never cared for fifty, when nothing got done. The hospitals were fun In certain ways, and an honour or so, But on the whole fifty was a mess as though Heavy clubs from below And from—God save the bloody mark—above Were loosed upon his skull & soles. O love, […]...
28. Old Tom The harridan who holds the inn At which I toss a pot, Is old and uglier than sin, I’m glad she knows me not. Indeed, for me it’s hard to think, Although my pow’s like snow, She was the lass so fresh and pink I courted long ago. I wronged her, yet it’s sadly true […]...
29. Cahoots PLAY it across the table. What if we steal this city blind? If they want any thing let ’em nail it down. Harness bulls, dicks, front office men, And the high goats up on the bench, Ain’t they all in cahoots? Ain’t it fifty-fifty all down the line, Petemen, dips, boosters, stick-ups and guns-what’s to […]...
30. The Lost Drink I had spent the night in the watch-house My head was the size of three So I went and asked the chemist To fix up a drink for me; And he brewed it from various bottles With soda and plenty of ice, With something that smelt like lemon, And something that seemed like spice. It […]...
31. Loveliest of Trees, the Cherry Now Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough, And stands about the woodland ride Wearing white for Eastertide. Now, of my threescore years and ten, Twenty will not come again, And take from seventy springs a score, It only leaves me fifty more. And since to look at things in […]...
32. Lost Shepherd Ah me! How hard is destiny! If we could only know. . . . I bought my son from Sicily A score of years ago; I haled him from our sunny vale To streets of din and squalor, And left it to professors pale To make of him a scholar. Had he remained a peasant […]...
33. My Lost Youth Often I think of the beautiful town That is seated by the sea; Often in thought go up and down The pleasant streets of that dear old town, And my youth comes back to me. And a verse of a Lapland song Is haunting my memory still: “A boy’s will is the wind’s will, And […]...
34. Paradise Lost: Book 12 As one who in his journey bates at noon, Though bent on speed; so here the Arch-Angel paused Betwixt the world destroyed and world restored, If Adam aught perhaps might interpose; Then, with transition sweet, new speech resumes. Thus thou hast seen one world begin, and end; And Man, as from a second stock, proceed. […]...
35. Big Night On The Town drunk on the dark streets of some city, It’s night, you’re lost, where’s your Room? You enter a bar to find yourself, Order scotch and water. Damned bar’s sloppy wet, it soaks Part of one of your shirt Sleeves. It’s a clip joint-the scotch is weak. You order a bottle of beer. Madame Death walks […]...
36. Old Sweethearts Oh Maggie, do you mind the day We went to school together, And as we stoppit by the way I rolled you in the heather? My! but you were the bonny lass And we were awfu’ late for class. Your locks are now as white as snow, And you are ripe and wrinkled, A grandmother […]...
37. Dram-Shop Ditty I drink my fill of foamy ale I sing a song, I tell a tale, I play the fiddle; My throat is chronically dry, Yet savant of a sort am I, And Life’s my riddle. For look! I raise my arm to drink- A voluntary act, you think (Nay, Sir, you’re grinning)> You’re wrong: this […]...
38. Paradise Lost: Book 06 All night the dreadless Angel, unpursued, Through Heaven’s wide champain held his way; till Morn, Waked by the circling Hours, with rosy hand Unbarred the gates of light. There is a cave Within the mount of God, fast by his throne, Where light and darkness in perpetual round Lodge and dislodge by turns, which makes […]...
39. INFAMOUS POET I never did fit in – at six or sixty one – I stand out in a crowd, too young or old And gather pity like a shroud. “Is that real silk?” A teenager inquired. “As real as Oxfam ever is For one pound fifty.” The vast ballroom was growing misty And blurred with alcohol […]...
40. 1887 From Clee to heaven the beacon burns, The shires have seen it plain, From north and south the sign returns And beacons burn again. Look left, look right, the hills are bright, The dales are light between, Because ’tis fifty years to-night That God has saved the Queen. Now, when the flame they watch not […]...