<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408880" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Old Mile-Tree</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">OLD coach-road West by Nor’-ward—<br>Old mile-tree by the track:<br>A dead branch pointing forward,<br>And a dead branch pointing back.<br>And still in clear-cut romans<br>On his hard heart he tells<br>The miles that were to fortune,<br>The miles from Bowenfels.<br>Old chief of Western timber!<br>A famous gum you’ve been.<br>Old mile-tree, I remember<br>When all your boughs were green.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There came three boyish lovers<br>When golden days begun;<br>There rode three boyish rovers<br>Towards the setting sun.<br>And Fortune smiled her fairest<br>And Fate to these was kind—<br>The truest, best and rarest,<br>The girls they’d left behind.<br>By the camp-fire’s dying ember<br>They dreamed of love and gold;<br>Old mile-tree, I remember<br>When all our hearts were bold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And when the wrecks of those days<br>Were sadly drifting back,<br>There came a lonely swagman<br>Along the dusty track;<br>And save for limbs that trembled—<br>For weak and ill was he—<br>Old mile-tree, he resembled<br>The youngest of the three.<br>Beneath you, dark and lonely,<br>A wronged and broken man<br>He crouched, and sobbed as only<br>The strong heart broken can.<br>The darkness wrapped the timber,<br>The stars seemed dark o’erhead—<br>Old mile-tree, I remember<br>When all green leaves seemed dead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Lawson">Henry Lawson</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=408880" data-title="The Old Mile-Tree de Henry Lawson" data-description="OLD coach-road West by Nor’-ward— Old mile-tree by the track: A dead branch pointing forward, And a dead branch pointing back. And still in clear-cut romans On his hard heart he tells The miles that were to fortune, The miles from Bowenfels. O..."></div> </div> </div>

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