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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=374793" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Drovers In Reply</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">We are wondering why those fellows who are writing cheerful ditties<br>Of the rosy times out droving, and the dust and death of cities,<br>Do not leave the dreary office, ask a drover for a billet,<br>And enjoy ‘the views,’ ‘the campfires,’ and ‘the freedom’ while they fill it.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If it’s fun to travel cattle or to picnic with merinoes,<br>Well the drover doesn’t see it—few poetic raptures he knows.<br>As for sleeping on the plains beneath ‘the pale moon’ always seen there,<br>That is most appreciated by the man who’s never been there.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And the ‘balmy air,’ the horses, and the ‘wondrous constellations,’<br>The ’possum-rugs, and billies, and the tough and musty rations,<br>It’s strange they only please the swell in urban streets residing,<br>Where the trams are always handy if he has a taste for riding.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We have travelled far with cattle for the very best of reasons—<br>For a living—we’ve gone droving in all latitudes and seasons,<br>But have never had a mate content with pleasures of this kidney,<br>And who wouldn’t change his blisses for a flutter down in Sydney.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Night watches are delightful when the stars are really splendid<br>To the sentimental stranger, but his joy is quickly ended<br>When the rain comes down in sluice-heads, or the cutting hailstones pelter,<br>And the sheep drift with the blizzard, and the horses bolt for shelter.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Don’t imagine we are soured, but it’s peculiarly annoying<br>To be told by city writers of the pleasures we’re enjoying,<br>When perhaps we’ve nothing better than some fluky water handy,<br>Whilst the scribes in showy bar-rooms take iced seltzer with their brandy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The dust in town is nothing to the dust the drover curses,<br>And the dust a drover swallows, and the awful thirst he nurses<br>When he’s on the hard macadam, where the wethers cannot browse, and<br>The sirocco drives right at him, and he follows twenty thousand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This droving on the plain is really charming when the weather<br>Isn’t hot enough to curl the soles right off your upper leather,<br>Or so cold that when the morning wind comes hissing through the grasses<br>You can feel it cut your eyelids like a whip-lash as it passes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There are bull-ants in the blankets, wicked horses, cramps, and ‘skeeters,’<br>And a drinking boss like Halligan, or one like Humpy Peters,<br>Who is mean about the rations, and a flowing stream of curses<br>From the break of day to camping, through good fortune and reverses.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yes, we wonder why the fellows who are building chipper ditties<br>Of the rosy times out droving and the dust and death of cities,<br>Do not quit the stuffy office, ask old Peters for a billet,<br>And enjoy the stars, the camp-fires, and the freedom while they fill it.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edward+George+Dyson">Edward George Dyson</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=374793" data-title="The Drovers In Reply de Edward George Dyson" data-description="We are wondering why those fellows who are writing cheerful ditties
Of the rosy times out droving, and the dust and death of cities,
Do not leave the dreary office, ask a drover for a billet,
And enjoy ‘the views,’ ‘the campfires,’ and ‘..."></div>
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