This Day's for Henry.
Posted: Mon Sep 02, 2013 11:17 am
Today the 2nd of September marks the passing of Poet Henry Lawson. (most of us modern day bush poets would not really remember Henry, but have great respect for the old masters poems and stories.)
Henry Lawson was born on in 1867, on the goldfields in rural New South Wales. Henry didn't get a good education but one of his most famous poems is about just watching people in the street. much of his inspiration came from the Australian bush, and its people. because he'd known the hardships of bush life Henry Lawson could understand its ways.
Although his own life was often unhappy. Henry was kind to others. he found time for less fortunate than himself. he felt he had something in common with homeless people.
Henry Lawson may not have led the life he hoped for, but he's widely known as Australia's poet of the people.
The Storm That Is To Come.
By our play in the midst of the furthest seas we are faded to stand alone-
when the nations fly at each others throats let Australia look to her own,
let her spend her gold on the barren west, let her keep her men at home,
for the south must look to the south for strength in the storm that is to come.
now who shall gallop from cape to cape, and who shall defend our shores-
the crowd that stand on the kerb agape and glares at the cricket scores?
and who shall hold the invader back when the shell tear up the ground-
the weeds that yelp by the cycling track while the nigger scorches round?
there may be many to man for forts in the big towns by the sea-
but the east will call to the west for scouts in the storm that is to be.
the west cries out to the east in drought, but the coastal towns are dumb,
and the east must look to the west for food in the war that is to come.
the rain comes down on the western land and the rivers run to waste,
when the town folk rush for the special tram, in their childish, senseless haste,
and never a pile or a lock we drive- but a few mean tanks we scratch-
for the fate of a nation is nought compared with the turn of a cricket match!
there's a gutter of mud where there spread a flood from the land long western creeks,
there is dust and drought on the plains far out where the water lay for weeks,
there's a pitful dam where a dyke should stretch and a tank where a lake should be,
and the rain goes down through the silt and sand and the floods waste into the seas.
i have seen so long in the land i love what the land i love might be
when the Darling rises form Queensland rains and the floods run into the sea.
and is it our fate to wake to late to the truth that we were blind,
with a foreign foe at our harbour gate and a blazing drought behind.
Henry Lawson. (1867-1922)
Henry Lawson was born on in 1867, on the goldfields in rural New South Wales. Henry didn't get a good education but one of his most famous poems is about just watching people in the street. much of his inspiration came from the Australian bush, and its people. because he'd known the hardships of bush life Henry Lawson could understand its ways.
Although his own life was often unhappy. Henry was kind to others. he found time for less fortunate than himself. he felt he had something in common with homeless people.
Henry Lawson may not have led the life he hoped for, but he's widely known as Australia's poet of the people.
The Storm That Is To Come.
By our play in the midst of the furthest seas we are faded to stand alone-
when the nations fly at each others throats let Australia look to her own,
let her spend her gold on the barren west, let her keep her men at home,
for the south must look to the south for strength in the storm that is to come.
now who shall gallop from cape to cape, and who shall defend our shores-
the crowd that stand on the kerb agape and glares at the cricket scores?
and who shall hold the invader back when the shell tear up the ground-
the weeds that yelp by the cycling track while the nigger scorches round?
there may be many to man for forts in the big towns by the sea-
but the east will call to the west for scouts in the storm that is to be.
the west cries out to the east in drought, but the coastal towns are dumb,
and the east must look to the west for food in the war that is to come.
the rain comes down on the western land and the rivers run to waste,
when the town folk rush for the special tram, in their childish, senseless haste,
and never a pile or a lock we drive- but a few mean tanks we scratch-
for the fate of a nation is nought compared with the turn of a cricket match!
there's a gutter of mud where there spread a flood from the land long western creeks,
there is dust and drought on the plains far out where the water lay for weeks,
there's a pitful dam where a dyke should stretch and a tank where a lake should be,
and the rain goes down through the silt and sand and the floods waste into the seas.
i have seen so long in the land i love what the land i love might be
when the Darling rises form Queensland rains and the floods run into the sea.
and is it our fate to wake to late to the truth that we were blind,
with a foreign foe at our harbour gate and a blazing drought behind.
Henry Lawson. (1867-1922)