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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538462" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Drought</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">My road is fenced with the bleached, white bones <br>And strewn with the blind, white sand, <br>Beside me a suffering, dumb world moans <br>On the breast of a lonely land. <br>On the rim of the world the lightnings play, <br>The heat-waves quiver and dance, <br>And the breath of the wind is a sword to slay <br>And the sunbeams each a lance. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have withered the grass where my hot hoofs tread, <br>I have whitened the sapless trees, <br>I have driven the faint-heart rains ahead <br>To hide in their soft green seas. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have bound the plains with an iron band, <br>I have stricken the slow streams dumb! <br>To the charge of my vanguards who shall stand? <br>Who stay when my cohorts come? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The dust-storms follow and wrap me round; <br>The hot winds ride as a guard; <br>Before me the fret of the swamps is bound <br>And the way of the wild-fowl barred. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I drop the whips on the loose-flanked steers; <br>I burnt their necks with the bow; <br>And the green-hide rips and the iron sears <br>Where the staggering, lean beasts go. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I lure the swagman out of the road <br>To the gleam of a phantom lake; <br>I have laid him down, I have taken his load, <br>And he sleeps till the dead men wake. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">My hurrying hoofs in the night go by, <br>And the great flocks bleat their fear <br>And follow the curve of the creeks burnt dry <br>And the plains scorched brown and sere. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The worn men start from their sleepless rest <br>With faces haggard and drawn; <br>They cursed the red Sun into the west <br>And they curse him out of the dawn. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">They have carried their outposts far, far out, <br>But - blade of my sword for a sign! - <br>I am the Master, the dread King Drought, <br>And the great West Land is mine!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Henry+Ogilvie">William Henry Ogilvie</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=538462" data-title="Drought de William Henry Ogilvie" data-description="My road is fenced with the bleached, white bones 
And strewn with the blind, white sand, 
Beside me a suffering, dumb world moans 
On the breast of a lonely land. 
On the rim of the world the lightnings play, 
The heat-waves quiver and dance, 
And..."></div>
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