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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=350489" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Jim's Whip</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yes, there it hangs upon the wall<br> And never gives a sound,<br>The hand that trimmed its greenhide fall<br> Is hidden underground,<br>There, in that patch of sallee shade,<br> Beneath that grassy mound.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I never take it from the wall,<br> That whip belonged to him, <br>The man I singled from them all,<br> He was my husband, Jim;<br>I see him now, so straight and tall,<br> So long and lithe of limb.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">That whip was with him night and day<br> When he was on the track;<br>I've often heard him laugh, and say<br> That when they heard its crack,<br>After the breaking of the drought,<br> The cattle all came back.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">And all the time that Jim was here, <br> A-working on the run,<br>I'd hear that whip ring sharp and clear<br> Just about the set of sun,<br>To let me know that he was near<br> And that his work was done.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I was away that afternoon,<br> Penning the calves, when, a bang!<br>I heard his whip, 'twas rather soon -<br> A thousand echoes rang<br>And died away among the hills,<br> As towards the hut I sprang.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I made the tea and waited, but,<br> Seized by a sudden whim, <br>I went and sat outside the hut<br> And watched the light grow dim -<br>I waited there till after dark,<br> But not a sign of Jim.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The evening air was damp with dew,<br> Just as the clock struck ten<br>His horse came riderless - I knew<br> What was the matter then.<br>Why should the Lord have singled out<br> My Jim from other men?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I took the horse and found him, where <br> He lay beneath the sky,<br>With blood all clotted on his hair;<br> I felt too dazed to cry -<br>I held him to me as I prayed<br> To God that I might die.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">But sometimes now I seem to hear -<br> Just when the air grows chill -<br>A single whip-crack, sharp and clear;<br> Re-echo from the hill,<br>That's Jim, to let me know he's near<br> And thinking of me still.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Barcroft+Henry+Thomas+Boake">Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake</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=350489" data-title="Jim's Whip de Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake" data-description="Yes, there it hangs upon the wall
 And never gives a sound,
The hand that trimmed its greenhide fall
 Is hidden underground,
There, in that patch of sallee shade,
 Beneath that grassy mound.



I never take it from the wall,
 That whip belonged to..."></div>
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