Explore "Collected Poetry" by Andrew Barton Paterson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
My horse had been lamed in the foot / In the rocks at the back of the run, / So I camped at the Murderer's Hut, / At the place where the murder was done.
The walls were all spattered with gore, / A terrible symbol of guilt; / And the bloodstains were fresh on the floor / Where the blood of the victim was spilt.