THE SICK STOCKRIDER 



Now westward winds the bridle path that 

 leads to Lindisfarm, 

 And yonder looms the double-headed 

 Bluff; 

 From the far side of the first hill, when the 

 skies are clear and calm, 

 You can see Sylvester's woolshed fair 

 enough. 



Five miles we used to call it from our home- 

 stead to the place 

 Where the big tree spans the roadway like 

 an arch ; 

 'Twas here we ran the dingo down that gave 

 us such a chase 

 Eight years ago — or was it nine ? — last 

 March. 



'Twas merry in the glowing morn, among the 



gleaming grass. 

 To wander as we've wander'd many a 



mile, 

 And blow the cool tobacco cloud, and watch 



the white wreaths pass, 



Sitting loosely in the saddle all the while. 



173 



