The Dead Bushman.

Waikato Times, Volume XXV, Issue 2033, 18 July 1885, Page 6 (Supplement)

The Dead Bushman.

V/no lies beneath yon grassy mound, Iv death's cold icy sleop, T T n-vaked by winter wind* around I\u.t ravage in their rage profound — ■ Audtiulia's forebt Jeep ? When silent g/aves give up their dead, Trie secret may be known Of him who tenants yonder bed, Within the sleepy iorcat dread, Unmarked by cross or stone. Ard, lo I the skeleton beside Another yet appears — A faithful dog that fortune's tide In love's fidelity defipd, Thro' many changing years. We found their boneß beside a creek — A 6leepy creek and dry— A aliearuliit, intermittent, weak, Whose plaintive tones in summer speak Of thirsty ranges high. But who he was, or when he died, Surmise is weak to tell : If in the strength of manly pride, Or drifting down on age's tide The lonely bushman fell. Perchance in youth on Britain's shore Tie courted fortune's smile ; Or happily sought in days of yore To glean the famine-stricken store Or Erin's wretched isle. Perhaps in vine-clad France amain His liery blood was fanned By breezes from the western main, Or en the olive slopes of Spain His future life was planned. Or yet in Caledonia wild His early footsteps strayed O'er crags in Bavage grandeur piled, Or jet, mayhap, a sportive child Wnere deathless Dante played. Whoe'er he was aDd whence be came, No mortal lips can tell, What mourner lingers on to claim The love that perished with his name In yonder woody dell. What mother weeps beside the door On creaking hinges hung, Unoped by him who never more May see the face he loved of yore In happy boyhood young. Or who can tell what pining maid In life's first budding spring, When falls the pensive evening Bhads Awaits the truant lover strayed On young ambitious wing ! Or that some wife, in sorrow great, Is not the pining prey Of cruel, wasting pangs that wait On dread Suspense's gloomy state, And k ills fioin day to-day. Within the deep untrodden dell The bushman sleeps in death, Just where the friendless alien fell, With none beaido his fate to tell Or catch his dying breath. Ills fond companion to the last The dog that bleaching lay That loved him thro' the changing past, Tnat loved him when the spirit passed From out the senseless clay. P. K. O'Haha. Clifton Hill.