Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE KROOMBIT BOYS, by LEX MCLENNAN First Line: Beyond the broken bloodwoods, over the timbered rise Last Line: Their whooping and their cooees, their songs of long-dead years. Subject(s): Animals; Death; Horses; Dead, The | ||||||||
BEYOND the broken bloodwoods, over the timbered rise, And past the range and river the ghost of Kroombit lies; And when the bush-winds whisper it seems as though one hears The echoing of hoof-beats and songs of vanished years. Wide were the Kroombit paddocks and wild the Kroombit steers, And fearless were the horsemen whose fame has crossed the years; They rode the rock-bound ranges and sentinelled the plains Kings of the rope and saddle, lean princes of the reins. Once on an August evening the Kroombit boys came down To see the wild-west showmen who had swaggered into town; They sat and smoked in silence along the roped ringside Until the showmen challenged all folk who dared to ride. Like greyhounds from the leashes they swarmed across the ring, And crowding on the sawdust they all began to sing: "We cut our teeth on leather tough as a bloodwood-tree, The Kroombit boys are happy, the Kroombit boys are free." They rode the flaunted outlaws until the showmen cried, And smoked cigars on horses 'twas claimed few men would ride; The Kroombit boys were happy and how those boys could cling! One caught the "untamed brumby" and rode it round the ring. They stuck like sticking-plaster and how we cheered them on! Then spoke the old boss showman through a long megaphone: "Now, gentlemen and ladies, this chestnut horse you see, I'll back against all-comers in terms of L.s.d. "No matter what his saddle or what trick he employs, He won't last ten secondsbut I bar these Kroombit boys!" The challenge went unanswered, with nothing else to do We all took up the chorus, the showmen joined in, too "They cut their teeth on leather, tough as a bloodwood-tree, The Kroombit boys are happy, the Kroombit boys are free"; And still on August evenings it seems as though one hears Their whooping and their cooees, their songs of long-dead years. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A FRIEND KILLED IN THE WAR by ANTHONY HECHT FOR JAMES MERRILL: AN ADIEU by ANTHONY HECHT TARANTULA: OR THE DANCE OF DEATH by ANTHONY HECHT CHAMPS D?ÇÖHONNEUR by ERNEST HEMINGWAY NOTE TO REALITY by TONY HOAGLAND THE DINGO-CHASER by LEX MCLENNAN |
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