Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake

(26 March 1866 – May 1892 / Sydney / Australia)

Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake Poems

1. A Bushman's Love 1/1/2004
2. A Memory 1/1/2004
3. A Song 1/1/2004
4. A Song From A Sandhill 4/9/2010
5. A Valentine 4/9/2010
6. A Vision Out West 4/9/2010
7. A Wayside Queen 4/9/2010
8. An Allegory 1/1/2004
9. An Easter Rhyme 4/9/2010
10. At Devlin's Siding 1/1/2004
11. At The "J. C." 1/1/2004
12. Babs Malone 4/9/2010
13. Desiree 4/9/2010
14. Down The River 1/1/2004
15. Featherstonhaugh 1/1/2004
16. Fogarty's Gin 4/9/2010
17. From The Far West 4/9/2010
18. How Babs Malone Cut Down The Field 1/1/2004
19. How Polly Paid For Her Keep 1/1/2004
20. Jack Corrigan 1/1/2004
21. Jack's Last Muster 1/1/2004
22. Jimmy Wood 1/1/2004
23. Jim's Whip 1/1/2004
24. Josephus Riley 4/9/2010
25. Kelly's Conversion 4/9/2010
26. Kitty Mccrae - A Galloping Rhyme 1/1/2004
27. On The Boundary 1/1/2004
28. On The Range 1/1/2004
29. Our Visitor 1/1/2004
30. Skeeta ( An Old Servant's Tale ) 1/1/2004
31. The Babes In The Bush 4/9/2010
32. The Box-Tree's Love 4/9/2010
33. The Demon Snow-Shoes (A Legend Of Kiandra) 1/1/2004
34. The Digger's Song 1/1/2004
35. To A Hatpeg 4/9/2010
36. 'Twixt The Wings Of The Yard 1/1/2004
37. Where The Dead Men Lie 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake

Down The River

Hark, the sound of it drawing nearer,
Clink of hobble and brazen bell;
Mark the passage of stalwart shearer,
Bidding Monaro soil farewell.

Where is he making for? Down the river,
Down the river with eager tread;
Where is he making for? Down the river,
Down the river to seek a 'shed'.

Where is his dwelling on old Monaro?
Buckley's Crossing, or Jindaboine?
Dry Plain is it, or sweet Bolaira?
P'raps 'tis near where the rivers join
Where is he making for? Down the river.
When, oh when, will he turn him back?
Soft sighs follow him down the ...

Read the full of Down The River

Featherstonhaugh

Brookong station lay half-asleep
Dozed in the waning western glare
('Twas before the run had stocked with sheep
And only cattle depastured there)
As the Bluccap mob reined up at the door
And loudly saluted Featherstonhaugh.

"My saintly preacher," the leader cried,
"I stand no nonsense, as you're aware,

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