BUSH BALLADS AND RHYMES 



The rebels are round us on every side, 



But here they straggle by twos and threes." 

 Then out I led her, and up I sprung, 

 And the postern door on its hinges swung. 



I had drawn this sword — you may draw it 

 and feel, 

 For this is the blade that I bore that day — 

 There's a notch even now on the long grey 

 steel, 

 A nick that has never been rasp'd away. 

 I bow'd my head and I buried my spurs, 

 One bound brought the gliding green 

 beneath ; 

 I could tell by her back-flung flatten'd ears 



She had fairly taken the bit in her teeth — 

 (What, Jack, have you drain'd your name- 

 sake dry, 

 Left nothing to quench the thirst of a fly ?) 



These things are done, and are done with, lad. 



In far less time than your talker tells. 



The sward with their hoof strokes shook like 



mad, 



And rang with their carbines and petronels, 



268 



