Explore "The Squatter's Dream" by Rolf Boldrewood on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"So farre, so fast the eygre drave, / The heart had hardly time to beat, / Before a shallow seething wave / Sobbed in the grasses at our feet; / The feet had hardly time to flee / Before it brake against the knee, / And all the world was in the sea. " -- _Jean Ingelow_.
The days passed pleasantly in excursions to Bimbalong, to the back paddocks, and in rides and drives along the perfect natural roads peculiar to the locality. In the long excursions, the twilight was upon them more than once before they reached home. Jack did not altogether neglect his opportunities. When he rode close to Maud's bridle-rein, as they flitted along in the mild half-light between the shadowy pines, or the avenues of oak and myall, words would become gradually lower in tone, more accented with feeling, than the ordinary daylight converse.