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Won't you help support DayPoems? Bannerman of the DandenongBy Alice WernerBorn 1859I rode through the Bush in the burning noon, Over the hills to my bride, -- The track was rough and the way was long, And Bannerman of the Dandenong, He rode along by my side. A day's march off my Beautiful dwelt, By the Murray streams in the West; -- Lightly lilting a gay love-song Rode Bannerman of the Dandenong, With a blood-red rose on his breast. "Red, red rose of the Western streams" Was the song he sang that day -- Truest comrade in hour of need, -- Bay Mathinna his peerless steed -- I had my own good grey. There fell a spark on the upland grass -- The dry Bush leapt into flame; -- And I felt my heart go cold as death, And Bannerman smiled and caught his breath, -- But I heard him name Her name. Down the hill-side the fire-floods rushed, On the roaring eastern wind; -- Neck and neck was the reckless race, -- Ever the bay mare kept her pace, But the grey horse dropped behind. He turned in the saddle -- "Let's change, I say!" And his bridle rein he drew. He sprang to the ground, -- "Look sharp!" he said With a backward toss of his curly head -- "I ride lighter than you!" Down and up -- it was quickly done -- No words to waste that day! -- Swift as a swallow she sped along, The good bay mare from Dandenong, -- And Bannerman rode the grey. The hot air scorched like a furnace blast From the very mouth of Hell: -- The blue gums caught and blazed on high Like flaming pillars into the sky; . . . The grey horse staggered and fell. "Ride, ride, lad, -- ride for her sake!" he cried; -- Into the gulf of flame Were swept, in less than a breathing space The laughing eyes, and the comely face, And the lips that named HER name. She bore me bravely, the good bay mare; -- Stunned, and dizzy and blind, I heard the sound of a mingling roar -- 'Twas the Lachlan River that rushed before, And the flames that rolled behind. Safe -- safe, at Nammoora gate, I fell, and lay like a stone. O love! thine arms were about me then, Thy warm tears called me to life again, -- But -- O God! that I came alone! -- We dwell in peace, my beautiful one And I, by the streams in the West, -- But oft through the mist of my dreams along Rides Bannerman of the Dandenong, With the blood-red rose on his breast. DayPoems Poem No. 900 Comment on DayPoems? If you are like us, you have strong feelings about poetry, and about each poem you read. Let it all out! Comment on this poem, any poem, DayPoems, other poetry places or the art of poetry at DayPoems Feedback. Won't you help support DayPoems? Click here to learn more about how you can keep DayPoems on the Web . . . Copyright The DayPoems web site, www.daypoems.net, is copyright 2001-2005 by Timothy K. Bovee. All rights reserved. The authors of poetry and other material appearing on DayPoems retain full rights to their work. Any requests for publication in other venues must be negotiated separately with the authors. The editor of DayPoems will gladly assist in putting interested parties in contact with the authors. |
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