Читать книгу The Elder Son - Henry Lawson - Страница 5

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Onwestern plain and eastern hill

Where once my fancy ranged,

The station hands are riding still

And they are little changed.

But I have lost in London gloom

The glory of the day,

The grand perfume of wattle bloom

Is faint and far away.

Brown faces under broad-brimmed hats

The grip of wiry hands,

The gallops on the frosty flats,

Seem dreams of other lands;

The camp fire and the stars that blaze

Above the mystic plain

Are but the thoughts of vanished days

That never come again.

The evening star I seldom view—

That led me on to roam—

I never see the morning star

That used to draw me home.

But I have often longed for day

To hide the few I see,

Because they only point and say

Most bitter things to me.

I wear my life on pavement stones

That drag me ever down,

A paltry slave to little things,

By custom chained to town.

I’ve lost the strength to strike alone,

The heart to do and dare—

I mind the day I’d roll my swag

And tramp to—God-knows-where.

When I should wait I wander out,

When I should go I bide—

I scarcely dare to think about

The days when I could ride.

I would not mount before his eyes,

‘Straight’ Bushman tall and tan—

I mind the day when I stood up

And fought him like a man.

I mind the time when I was shy

To meet the brown Bush girls—

I’ve lunched with lords since then and I

Have been at home with earls:

I learned to smile and learned to bow

And lie to ladies gay—

But to a gaunt Bushwoman now

I’d not know what to say.

And if I sought her hard bare home

From scenes of show and sham,

I’d sit all ill at ease and feel

The poor weak thing I am.

I could not meet her hopeless eyes

That look one through and through,

The haggard woman of the past

Who once thought I was true.

But nought on earth can last for aye,

And wild with care and pain,

Some day by chance I’ll break away

And seek the Bush again.

And find awhile from bitter years

The rest the Bush can bring,

And hear, perhaps, with truer ears

The songs it has to sing.