60 Classic Australian Poems for Children (5 page)

It was somewhere up the country, in a land of rock and scrub,

That they formed an institution called the Geebung Polo Club.

They were long and wiry natives from the rugged mountain side,

And the horse was never saddled that the Geebungs couldn't ride;

But their style of playing polo was irregular and rash—

They had mighty little science, but a mighty lot of dash:

And they played on mountain ponies that were muscular and strong,

Though their coats were quite unpolished, and their manes and tails were long.

And they used to train those ponies wheeling cattle in the scrub,

They were demons, were the members of the Geebung Polo Club.

It was somewhere down the country, in a city's smoke and steam,

That a polo club existed, called ‘The Cuff and Collar Team'.

As a social institution 'twas a marvellous success,

For the members were distinguished by exclusiveness and dress.

They had natty little ponies that were nice, and smooth, and sleek,

For their cultivated owners only rode 'em once a week.

So they started up the country in pursuit of sport and fame,

For they meant to show the Geebungs how they ought to play the game;

And they took their valets with them—just to give their boots a rub

Ere they started operations on the Geebung Polo Club.

Now my readers can imagine how the contest ebbed and flowed,

When the Geebung boys got going it was time to clear the road;

And the game was so terrific that ere half the time was gone

A spectator's leg was broken—just from merely looking on.

For they waddied one another till the plain was strewn with dead,

While the score was kept so even that they neither got ahead.

And the Cuff and Collar Captain, when he tumbled off to die,

Was the last surviving player—so the game was called a tie.

Then the Captain of the Geebungs raised him slowly from the ground,

Though his wounds were mostly mortal, yet he fiercely gazed around;

There was no one to oppose him—all the rest were in a trance,

So he scrambled on his pony for his last expiring chance,

For he meant to make an effort to get victory to his side;

So he struck at goal—and missed it—then he tumbled off and died.

By the old Campaspe River, where the breezes shake the grass,

There's a row of little gravestones that the stockmen never pass,

For they bear a crude inscription saying, ‘Stranger, drop a tear,

For the Cuff and Collar players and the Geebung boys lie here.'

And on misty moonlit evenings, while the dingoes howl around,

You can see their shadows flitting down that phantom polo ground;

You can hear the loud collisions as the flying players meet,

And the rattle of the mallets, and the rush of ponies' feet,

Till the terrified spectator rides like blazes to the pub—

He's been haunted by the spectres of the

Geebung Polo Club.

The Antipodean
, 1893

Did you see them pass to-day, Billy, Kate and Robin,

All astride upon the back of old grey Dobbin?

Jigging, jogging off to school, down the dusty track—

What must Dobbin think of it—three upon his back?

Robin at the bridle-rein, in the middle Kate,

Billy holding on behind, his legs out straight.

Now they're coming back from school, jig, jog, jig.

See them at the corner where the gums grow big;

Dobbin flicking off the flies and blinking at the sun—

Having three upon his back he thinks is splendid fun:

Robin at the bridle-rein, in the middle Kate,

Little Billy up behind, his legs out straight.

A Book for Kids,
1921

Hist! ……. Hark!

The night is very dark,

And we've to go a mile or so

Across the Possum Park.

Step ……. light,

Keeping to the right;

If we delay, and lose our way,

We'll be out half the night.

The clouds are low and gloomy. Oh!

It's just begun to mist!

We haven't any overcoats

And—Hist! ……. Hist!

(Mo ……. poke!)

Who was that that spoke?

This is not a fitting spot

To make a silly joke.

Dear ……. me!

A mopoke in a tree!

It jarred me so, I didn't know

Whatever it could be.

But come along; creep along;

Soon we shall be missed.

They'll get a scare and wonder where

We—Hush! ……. Hist!

Ssh! ……. Soft!

I've told you oft and oft

We should not stray so far away

Without a moon aloft.

Oo! ……. Scat!

Goodness! What was that?

Upon my word, it's quite absurd,

It's only just a cat.

But come along; haste along;

Soon we'll have to rush,

Or we'll be late and find the gate

Is—Hist! ……. Hush!

(
Kok! ……. Korrock!
)

Oh! I've had a shock!

I hope and trust it's only just

A frog behind a rock.

Shoo! ……. Shoo!

We've had enough of you;

Scaring folk just for a joke

Is not the thing to do.

But come along, slip along—

Isn't it a lark

Just to roam so far from home

On—Hist! ……. Hark!

Look! ……. See!

Shining through the tree,

The window-light is glowing bright

To welcome you and me.

Shout! ……. Shout!

There's someone round about,

And through the door I see some more

And supper all laid out.

Now, run! Run! Run! …

Oh, we've had such splendid fun—

Through the park in the dark,

As brave as anyone.

Laughed, we did, and chaffed, we did,

And whistled all the way,

And we're home again! Home again!

Hip ……. Hooray!

A Book for Kids,
1921