A Song From A Sandhill Poem by Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake

A Song From A Sandhill

Rating: 2.8


Drip, drip, drip! It tinkles on the fly—
The pitiless outpouring of an overburdened sky:
Each drooping frond of pine has got a jewel at its tip—
First a twinkle, then a sprinkle, and a drip, drip, drip.

Drip, drip, drip! They must be shearing up on high.
Can't you see the snowy fleeces that are rolling, rolling by?
How many bales, I wonder, are they branding to the clip?
P'r'aps the Boss is keeping tally with this drip, drip, drip.

Drip, drip, drip! while the sodden branches sigh:
The jovial jackass dare not laugh for fear that he should cry:
The merry magpie's melody is frozen on his lip;
He glowers at the showers, with their drip, drip, drip.

Drip, drip, drip! and one's ‘nap' is far from dry:
'Tis hard to keep the water out, however one may try:
I'd sell myself to Satan for three fingers of a nip:
There's cramps and vile rheumatics in that drip, drip, drip.

Pat, pat, pat! how it patters on the land!
'Tis certainly consoling to be camped upon the sand:
There's naught but mud and water over yonder on the flat,
Where the spots of rain are splashing with their pat, pat, pat.

Rain, rain, rain! and the day is nearly done:
I wonder shall we see another rising of the sun?
Has the sky shut down and stifled him; or will he come again
And stop the cursed clatter of this rain, rain, rain?

Drop, drop, drop! monotonous as Life,
With now and then a western breeze that cuts one like a knife:
Sputter on the fire: is it never going to stop?
Has the weather-clerk gone crazy, with his drop, drop, drop?

Drip, drip, drip! the squatter wouldn't say
‘Thank God!' so earnestly if he were camped in it to-day.
'Tis in at last: I knew it! there's a pool about my hip:
Oh, 'tis maddening and sadd'ning, with its drip, drip, drip!

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Khairul Ahsan 28 September 2020

'First a twinkle, then a sprinkle, and a drip, drip, drip.' - Nice!

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Mahtab Bangalee 28 September 2020

Drip, drip, drip! the squatter wouldn't say ‘Thank God! ' so earnestly if he were camped in it to-day. 'Tis in at last: I knew it! there's a pool about my hip: Oh, 'tis maddening and sadd'ning, with its drip, drip, drip! ....beautiful song which are growing up like the beautiful devotional hymn; pleasure to read; beautiful poetic words weaving;

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Dr Antony Theodore 28 September 2020

Rain, rain, rain! and the day is nearly done: I wonder shall we see another rising of the sun? Has the sky shut down and stifled him; or will he come again And stop the cursed clatter of this rain, rain, rain? A great poem indeed. tony

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Savita Tyagi 28 September 2020

With sound of rain outside, wonderful to read this poem of lovely barn side imagery.

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