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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408285" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Camped By The Creek</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'All day a strong sun has been drinking <br>The ponds in the Wattletree Glen; <br>And now as they're puddles, I'm thinking <br>We were wise to head hitherwards, men! <br>The country is heavy to nor'ard, <br>But Lord, how you rattled along! <br>Jack's chestnut's best leg was put for'ard, <br>And the bay from the start galloped strong; <br>But for bottom, I'd stake my existence, <br>There's none of the lot like the mare; <br>For look! she has come the whole distance <br>With never the `turn of a hair'. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'But now let us stop, for the `super' <br>Will want us to-morrow by noon; <br>And as he can swear like a trooper, <br>We can't be a minute too soon. <br>Here, Dick, you can hobble the filly <br>And chestnut, but don't take a week; <br>And, Jack, hurry off with the billy <br>And fill it. We'll camp by the creek.' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">So spoke the old stockman, and quickly <br>We made ourselves snug for the night; <br>The smoke-wreaths above us curled thickly, <br>For our pipes were the first thing a-light! <br>As we sat round a fire that only <br>A well-seasoned bushman can make, <br>Far forests grew silent and lonely, <br>Though the paw was astir in the brake, <br>But not till our supper was ended, <br>And not till old Bill was asleep, <br>Did wild things by wonder attended <br>In shot of our camping-ground creep. <br>Scared eyes from thick tuft and tree-hollow <br>Gleamed out thro' the forest-boles stark; <br>And ever a hurry would follow <br>Of fugitive feet in the dark. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">While Dick and I yarned and talked over <br>Old times that had gone like the sun, <br>The wail of the desolate plover <br>Came up from the swamps in the run. <br>And sniffing our supper, elated, <br>From his den the red dingo crawled out; <br>But skulked in the darkness, and waited, <br>Like a cunning but cowardly scout. <br>Thereafter came sleep that soon falls on <br>A man who has ridden all day; <br>And when midnight had deepened the palls on <br>The hills, we were snoring away. <br>But ere we dozed off, the wild noises <br>Of forest, of fen, and of stream, <br>Grew strange, and were one with the voices <br>That died with a sweet semi-dream. <br>And the tones of the waterfall, blended <br>With the song of the wind on the shore, <br>Became a soft psalm that ascended, <br>Grew far, and we heard it no more.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Kendall">Henry Kendall</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=408285" data-title="Camped By The Creek de Henry Kendall" data-description="'All day a strong sun has been drinking 
The ponds in the Wattletree Glen; 
And now as they're puddles, I'm thinking 
We were wise to head hitherwards, men! 
The country is heavy to nor'ard, 
But Lord, how you rattled along! 
Jack's chestnut's bes..."></div>
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