Edward Harrington Poems

Four horseman rode out from the heart of the range,
Four horseman with aspects forbidding and strange.
They were booted and spurred, they were armed to the teeth,
And they frowned as they looked at the valley beneath,
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Lone Pine! Lone Pine! Our hearts are numbly aching
For those who come no more,
Our boys who sleep the sleep that knows no waking,
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I camped one night in an empty hut on the side of a lonely hill.
I didn’t go much on empty huts, but the night was awful chill.
So I boiled me billy and had me tea and seen that the door was shut.
Then I went to bed in am empty bunk by the side of the old slab shed.
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This happened many years ago
Before the bush was cleared,
When every man was six foot high
And wore a flowing beard.
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When Morgan crossed the Murray to Peechelba and doom
A sombre silent shadow rode with him through the gloom.
The wild things of the forest slunk from the outlaw's track,
The boobook croaked a warning, "Go back, go back, go back!"
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By jove it’s hot on the track today, my flannel is soaked with sweat.
I think I’ll sit in the shade a bit and wait for the sun to set.
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The old man sat upon his swag his eyes were red and bleared.
I doubt he’d had a wash for days or even combed his beard.
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'Far below us in a hollow
Slumber'ing in the morning haze,
Lay the quaint, old mining township,
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'We answered to the call to arms, unquestioning and blind,
We trusted to the promises of those we left behind.
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