Explore "The Australian Stockrider" by Gilbert Parker on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I ride to the tramp and shuffle of hoofs / Away to the wild waste land, / I can see the sun on the station roofs, / And a stretch of the shifting sand; / The forest of horns is a shaking sea, / Where white waves tumble and pass; / The cockatoo screams in the myall-tree, / And the adder-head gleams in the grass.
The clouds swing out from beyond the hills / And valance the face of the sky, / And the Spirit of Winds creeps up and fills / The plains with a plaintive cry; / A boundary-rider on lonely beat / Creeps round the horizon's rim; / He has little to do, and plenty to eat, / And the world is a blank to him.