The Horses Stay Behind
By Oliver ‘Trooper Bluegum’ Hogue
In days to come we'll
wander west and cross the range again;
We'll hear the bush birds
singing in the green trees after rain;
We'll canter through the
Mitchell grass and breast the bracing wind:
But we'll have other horses.
Our chargers stay behind.
Around the fire at night
we'll yarn about old Sinai;
We'll fight our battles
o'er again; and as the days go by
There'll be old mates to
greet us. The bush girls will be kind,
Still our thoughts will often
wander to the horses left behind.
I don't think I could stand
the thought of my fancy hack
Just crawling 'round old
Cairo with a 'Gyppo on his back.
Perhaps some English tourist
out in Palestine, may find
My broken hearted Waler
with a wooden plough behind.
NO; I think I'd better shoot
him and tell a little lie:
"He floundered in a
wombat hole and then lay down to die."
Maybe I'll get
court-martialled; but I'm damned if I'm inclined
To go back to Australia
and leave my horse behind.
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