{"id":485,"date":"2006-02-03T15:57:41","date_gmt":"2006-02-03T05:57:41","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/wp.randomknits.net\/?p=485"},"modified":"2006-02-03T15:57:41","modified_gmt":"2006-02-03T05:57:41","slug":"485","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.randomknits.net\/?p=485","title":{"rendered":""},"content":{"rendered":"

I decided to participate in the “Bloggers Silent Poetry Reading” seen on many blogs, originally from Grace’s Poppies<\/a>, even though I’m a day late. My excuse is that I didn’t know about it until this morning, and it was already February 3 here by then!
\nThe Drover’s Sweetheart
\nHenry Lawson
\nAn hour before the sun goes down
\nBehind the ragged boughs,
\nI go across the little run
\nAnd bring the dusty cows;
\nAnd once I used to sit and rest
\nBeneath the fading dome,
\nFor there was one that I loved best
\nWho’d bring the cattle home.
\nOur yard is fixed with double bails,
\nRound one the grass is green,
\nThe bush is growing through the rails,
\nThe spike is rusted in;
\nAnd ’twas from there his freckled face
\nWould turn and smile at me —
\nHe’d milk a dozen in the race
\nWhile I was milking three.
\nI milk eleven cows myself
\nWhere once I milked but four;
\nI set the dishes on the shelf
\nAnd close the dairy door;
\nAnd when the glaring sunlight fails
\nAnd the fire shines through the cracks,
\nI climb the broken stockyard rails
\nAnd watch the bridle-tracks.
\nHe kissed me twice and once again
\nAnd rode across the hill,
\nThe pint-pots and the hobble-chain
\nI hear them jingling still;
\nHe’ll come at night or not at all —
\nHe left in dust and heat,
\nAnd when the soft, cool shadows fall
\nIs the best time to meet.
\nAnd he is coming back again,
\nHe wrote to let me know,
\nThe floods were in the Darling then —
\nIt seems so long ago;
\nHe’d come through miles of slush and mud,
\nAnd it was weary work,
\nThe creeks were bankers, and the flood
\nWas forty miles round Bourke.
\nHe said the floods had formed a block,
\nThe plains could not be crossed,
\nAnd there was foot-rot in the flock
\nAnd hundreds had been lost;
\nThe sheep were falling thick and fast
\nA hundred miles from town,
\nAnd when he reached the line at last
\nHe trucked the remnant down.
\nAnd so he’ll have to stand the cost;
\nHis luck was always bad,
\nInstead of making more, he lost
\nThe money that he had;
\nAnd how he’ll manage, heaven knows
\n(My eyes are getting dim),
\nHe says — he says — he don’t — suppose
\nI’ll want — to — marry — him.
\nAs if I wouldn’t take his hand
\nWithout a golden glove —
\nOh! Jack, you men won’t understand
\nHow much a girl can love.
\nI long to see his face once more —
\nJack’s dog! thank God, it’s Jack! —
\n(I never thought I’d faint before)
\nHe’s coming — up — the track.
\nI chose this particular poem primarily because I wanted you all to see something Australian. Henry Lawson<\/a> was an Australian author and poet who lived in rural Australia around the turn of the century. Most of his writings capture the Australian way of life at that time. It’s my favourite Lawson poem, one that I learned in High School.
\nI had thought about posting “My Country” by Dorothea MacKellar, but it’s still under copyright, so I’ll just link to it here<\/a>.
\n“My Country” is a poem that pretty much all Australians know (at least part of it) and as far as I know, all Australian school children learn it or hear it at some point or another. It describes Australia and all the things we love about it, in such beautiful language and descriptiveness. (Is that a word?)
\nEdited to add:
\nI’m horrified to say that when I read the poem to Emily, she asked “What’s a Drover<\/a>?” (Link to Wikipedia) If you don’t know what a drover is, the link will explain a lot about this poem. I don’t expect the non-aussies to know, but what are they teaching the kids in Australian schools? \ud83d\ude09<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I decided to participate in the “Bloggers Silent Poetry Reading” seen on many blogs, originally from Grace’s Poppies, even though I’m a day late. My excuse is that I didn’t know about it until this morning, and it was already February 3 here by then! The Drover’s Sweetheart Henry Lawson An hour before the sun […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-485","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.randomknits.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/485","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.randomknits.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.randomknits.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.randomknits.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.randomknits.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=485"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.randomknits.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/485\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.randomknits.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=485"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.randomknits.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=485"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.randomknits.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=485"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}