The Boundary Rider (1900)

When the sunset tips the ridges,
l can smell the distant gidgahs,
And through the fitful gloaming
There stands the gate ajar ;

Old Rover comes to meet me,
But no voice is there to greet me,
Save the voices of the night wind
Through the wilga and belar.

As the day is slowly dying,
Comes the endless sobbing, sighing,
And the branches of the she oaks
Are a-swaying in the breeze,

While the stars above are blinking
As they laugh at red Sol sinking,
As he leaves us for his friends
In other lands beyond the seas.

Now, again, the scene is shifting
As the misty breeze is lifting,
And the moon is slyly peeping
Through the clouds of silver grey ;

For the night is stealing o'er us,
And the kookaburra's chorus
Is ringing through the ridges,
As they sing their evening lay.

Now, some folks in the city,
May think of me with pity,
But my heart is filled with gladness
You town chaps never knew,

For my horse and dog they love me,
And the moon shines fair above me,
The wild bush is my sweetheart,
She is ever fair and true.

She has tender, loving glances
When the golden sunbeam dances,
And there's never any doubt about
The moaning of her smile.

Ah ! my friend, you need not pity-
I don't like your dusty city.
Where they meet us with a hand-shake
And detest us all the while.

But still there linger traces
Of some happy smiling faces,
And two bright eyes are beaming
With a fondness into mine ;

There's only one, if any,
Only one from but the many.
I would leave my wild bush home for,
Far along the western line.

A. A.

Notes

From the NSW Newspaper The Narromine News and Trangie Advocate 18 May 1900 p. 3.