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THE WOUNDED BUSHMAN.

So I must walk on crutches all

mv days, A crippled thing, the lifelong pity of ! men!'' In vain these ribbons on my breast that blaze, If through the Bush I never ride again. . If through the Bush I never ride in dreams, The circling cattle with their clashing horns, The jangling bells upon the ieeding teams, The magpies singing to the blood-red morns. _ These things I loved. My saddle and my spurs, The bucking colt that none but 1 could ride; These were Australia's own; and I am | hers, 1 . Yet, even had I known in those dim y€ars -r • V- jj. '■■ The bitter price that I was doomed to I like 'to think I should have crushed my fears ' ■■.■' " And gone hot-foot along the Adventurous Way. l . . —Will H. Ogilvie, in the "Westminster Gazette."

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Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/AG19190502.2.26

Bibliographic details

THE WOUNDED BUSHMAN., Ashburton Guardian, Volume XXXIX, Issue 9599, 2 May 1919

Word Count
139

THE WOUNDED BUSHMAN. Ashburton Guardian, Volume XXXIX, Issue 9599, 2 May 1919

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