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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538495" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Last Muster</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">All day we had driven the starving sheep to the scrub where the axes ply, <br>And the weakest had lagged upon weary feet and dropped from the ranks to die; <br>And the crows Hew up from the rotting heaps and the ewes too weak to stand, <br>And the fences Haunted red skins like flags, and the dour drought held the land. <br>And at night as I lay a-dreaming, I woke, and a silver moon <br>Shone fair on a dancing river and laughed to a broad lagoon, <br>And the grass turned over the fences and rippled like ripening grain, <br>And clouds hung low on the hilltops, and earth smelt sweet with the rain. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And in at the open window the lowing of cattle came - <br>A mob that had never a laggard and never a beast that was lame; <br>And wethers, a thousand thousand, and ewes with their lambs beside, <br>Moved over the green flats feeding, spread river to ranges wide. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And horses whinnied below me, and leaning I watched them pass, <br>Lusty and strong and playful like horses on spring-tide grass <br>When they whinny one to another, strong-voiced, and a gallop brings <br>Foam to the Hank, be it only from paddock to stockyard wings. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Slowly they moved in the moon-mist, heads low in the cool night-dew, <br>Snatching the long bush grasses, breast-high as they wandered through; <br>Slowly they moved in the moon-mist, and never a horse on the plains <br>Was red with the gall of the collar or marked with a chafe of the chains. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And behind them a hundred drovers rode slow on their horses white, <br>All brave with their trappings of silver that Hashed in the silver light; <br>Buckle and stirrup and bridle, and spurs for their better speed - <br>Singing behind the cattle like drovers on royal feed. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I cooeed, and one came over that rode on the nearest wing, <br>And I called to him, &quot;Ho, there, drover! say, whose is the mob you bring?&quot; <br>Then he reined his horse by the window, all silver-bitted and shod, <br>And spoke, and his words rang sadly, &quot;These are the cattle of God!&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">So I said to him, &quot;Where are they bound for?&quot; and he raised his hand to the West: <br>They are bound for the star-fenced pastures on God's own rivers, to rest.&quot; <br>And I asked him &quot;Where did you muster?&quot; and he answered me sadly again, <br>&quot;From every gully and sandhill, from every valley and plain, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;From the swamps of the green kapunyah, from the reeds at the red creek-side, <br>From the thickets of twisted mulga, from the clay-pans furrowed and dried, <br>From the track to the Western goldfields, from the ruts of the Great North Road, <br>Where the dingoes go and the crows fly low we have gathered the beasts of God.&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I said, &quot;Then has God repented because that He sent no rain? <br>And has God looked down in His pity on the poor dumb beasts He has slain?&quot; <br>But the drover turned in his saddle and answered, his eyes in mine, <br>&quot;Not so; for the beasts were slaughtered by man of his greed's design: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;God gave to them feed and water and pastures so wild and wide <br>They had fed him a thousand million from here to the ocean side; <br>But man in his greed came after and fenced them on hill and plain <br>And cursed the God in His heaven that would not send them His rain; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;And man's be the blame of the bleaching bone and the shame of the rotting hide, <br>And the pity of lorn lambs crying alone on the wind-swept mountain-side, <br>Of the weak horse down in his harness, of the bullock dead by the dray, <br>Of the moan of the thirsty cattle for ever and ever and aye!&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And he spoke to his steed and left me - moved out on the mist it seemed, <br>And I woke to the red burned acres, and knew that I had but dreamed. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"></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=538495" data-title="The Last Muster de William Henry Ogilvie" data-description="All day we had driven the starving sheep to the scrub where the axes ply, 
And the weakest had lagged upon weary feet and dropped from the ranks to die; 
And the crows Hew up from the rotting heaps and the ewes too weak to stand, 
And the fences H..."></div>
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