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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=344151" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Road to Hogan's Gap</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now look, you see, it’s this way like, <br> You cross the broken bridge <br>And run the crick down till you strike <br> The second right-hand ridge. <br>The track is hard to see in parts, <br> But still it’s pretty clear; <br>There’s been two Injin hawkers’ carts <br> Along that road this year. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Well, run that right-hand ridge along— <br> It ain’t, to say, too steep— <br>There’s two fresh tracks might put you wrong <br> Where blokes went out with sheep. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But keep the crick upon your right, <br> And follow pretty straight <br>Along the spur, until you sight <br> A wire and sapling gate. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Well, that’s where Hogan’s old grey mare <br> Fell off and broke her back; <br>You’ll see her carcase layin’ there, <br> Jist down below the track. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And then you drop two mile, or three, <br> It’s pretty steep and blind; <br>You want to go and fall a tree <br> And tie it on behind. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And then you pass a broken cart <br> Below a granite bluff; <br>And that is where you strike the part <br> They reckon pretty rough. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But by the time you’ve got that far <br> It’s either cure or kill, <br>So turn your horses round the spur <br> And face ’em up the hill. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For look, if you should miss the slope <br> And get below the track, <br>You haven’t got the whitest hope <br> Of ever gettin’ back. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">An’ half way up you’ll see the hide <br> Of Hogan’s brindled bull; <br>Well, mind and keep the right-hand side, <br> The left’s too steep a pull. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And both the banks is full of cracks; <br> An’ just about at dark <br>You’ll see the last year’s bullock tracks <br> Where Hogan drew the bark. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The marks is old and pretty faint— <br> And grown with scrub and such; <br>Of course the track to Hogan’s ain’t <br> A road that’s travelled much. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But turn and run the tracks along <br> For half a mile or more, <br>And then, of course, you can’t go wrong— <br> You’re right at Hogan’s door. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">When first you come to Hogan’s gate <br> He mightn’t show, perhaps; <br>He’s pretty sure to plant and wait <br> To see it ain’t the traps. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I wouldn’t call it good enough <br> To let your horses out; <br>There’s some that’s pretty extra rough <br> Is livin’ round about. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">It’s likely if your horses did <br> Get feedin’ near the track, <br>It’s goin’ to cost at least a quid <br> Or more to get them back. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">So, if you find they’re off the place, <br> It’s up to you to go <br>And flash a quid in Hogan’s face— <br> He’ll know the blokes that know. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But listen—if you’re feelin’ dry, <br> Just see there’s no one near, <br>And go and wink the other eye <br> And ask for ginger beer. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The blokes come in from near and far <br> To sample Hogan’s pop; <br>They reckon once they breast the bar <br> They stay there till they drop. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">On Sundays you can see them spread <br> Like flies around the tap. <br>It’s like that song “The Livin’ Dead” <br> Up there at Hogan’s Gap. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">They like to make it pretty strong <br> Whenever there’s a charnce; <br>So when a stranger comes along <br> They always holds a dance. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There’s recitations, songs, and fights— <br> A willin’ lot you’ll meet. <br>There’s one long bloke up there recites, <br> I tell you—he’s a treat. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">They’re lively blokes all right up there, <br> It’s never dull a day. <br>I’d go meself if I could spare <br> The time to get away. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>. . . . . <br>The stranger turned his horses quick. <br> He didn’t cross the bridge; <br>He didn’t go along the crick <br> To strike the second ridge; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He didn’t make the trip, because <br> He wasn’t feeling fit. <br>His business up at Hogan’s was <br> To serve him with a writ. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He reckoned if he faced the pull <br> And climbed the rocky stair, <br>The next to come might find his hide <br>A land-mark on the mountain side, <br>Along with Hogan’s brindled bull <br> And Hogan’s old grey mare!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Andrew+Barton+Paterson">Andrew Barton Paterson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=344151" data-title="The Road to Hogan's Gap de Andrew Barton Paterson" data-description="Now look, you see, it’s this way like, 
 You cross the broken bridge 
And run the crick down till you strike 
 The second right-hand ridge. 
The track is hard to see in parts, 
 But still it’s pretty clear; 
There’s been two Injin hawkers’..."></div>
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