ISBN: 9781151148131

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustra… More...

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1897 Excerpt: .awful curse To fall on him who made of her a harlot-ay, and worse? i Why should she fall upon her knees and, with a trembling hand, Clear off the underbrush and scrape a cradle in the sand 1 Why doth she shudder as she hears the buzz of eager flies, And bind a handkerchief across the This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1897 Excerpt: .awful curse To fall on him who made of her a harlot-ay, and worse? i Why should she fall upon her knees and, with a trembling hand, Clear off the underbrush and scrape a cradle in the sand 1 Why doth she shudder as she hears the buzz of eager flies, And bind a handkerchief across the sleeping infant's eves? Why doth she turn, but come again and feverishly twine, To shield it from the burning sun, the fragrant fronds of pine? Why, as she strides the platform, does she try hard not to think That somewhere in the scrub a babe is calling her for drink 1 Why, through the alleys of the pine, do languid breezes sigh A low refrain that seems to mock her with a baby's cry? Seek not to know! but pray for her, and pity, as the train Carries a white-faced woman back to face the world FEATHERSTONHAUGH Brookong station lay half-asleep-Dozed in the waning western glare. 'Twas before the run had been stocked with sheep. And only cattle depastured there, As the Bluecap mob reined up at the door And loudly saluted Featherstonhaugh. 'My saintly preacher!' the leader cried: I stand no nonsense, as you're aware. I've a word for you if you'll step outside: Just drop that pistol and have a care: I'll trouble you, too, for the key of the store: For we're short of tucker, friend Featherstonhaugh. The muscular Christian showed no fear, Though he handed the key with but small delay: He never answered the ruffian's jeer Except by a look which seemed to say: 'Beware, my friend! and think twice before You raise the devil in Featherstonhaugh.' NOTES He loosed the first and it walked away; But his comrade's silence could not be bought, For he raised his head with a sudden neigh, And plainly showed that he'd not be caught. As a bullet sang from a rifle-bore, Books, , Where-the-Dead-Men-Lie-and-Other-Poems~~Barcroft-Henry-Thomas-Boake, 999999999, Where the Dead Men Lie and Other Poems, Barcroft Boake, 115114813X, General Books LLC, , , , , General Books LLC<

ISBN: 9781151148131

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustra… More...

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1897 Excerpt: ...awful curse To fall on him who made of her a harlot--ay, and worse? i Why should she fall upon her knees and, with a trembling hand, Clear off the underbrush and scrape a cradle in the sand 1 Why doth she shudder as she hears the buzz of eager flies, And bind a handkerchief across the sleeping infant's eves? Why doth she turn, but come again and feverishly twine, To shield it from the burning sun, the fragrant fronds of pine? Why, as she strides the platform, does she try hard not to think That somewhere in the scrub a babe is calling her for drink 1 Why, through the alleys of the pine, do languid breezes sigh A low refrain that seems to mock her with a baby's cry? Seek not to know! but pray for her, and pity, as the train Carries a white-faced woman back to face the world FEATHERSTONHAUGH Brookong station lay half-asleep--Dozed in the waning western glare. 'Twas before the run had been stocked with sheep. And only cattle depastured there, As the Bluecap mob reined up at the door And loudly saluted Featherstonhaugh. 'My saintly preacher!' the leader cried: I stand no nonsense, as you're aware. I've a word for you if you'll step outside: Just drop that pistol and have a care: I'll trouble you, too, for the key of the store: For we're short of tucker, friend Featherstonhaugh. The muscular Christian showed no fear, Though he handed the key with but small delay: He never answered the ruffian's jeer Except by a look which seemed to say: 'Beware, my friend! and think twice before You raise the devil in Featherstonhaugh.' NOTES He loosed the first and it walked away; But his comrade's silence could not be bought, For he raised his head with a sudden neigh, And plainly showed that he'd not be caught. As a bullet sang from a rifle-bore, Books Books Where-the-Dead-Men-Lie-and-Other-Poems~~Barcroft-Henry-Thomas-Boake General Books LLC General Books publication date: 2009 Original publication date: 1897 Notes: This is an OCR reprint of the original rare book. There may be typos or missing text and there are no illustrations. When you buy the General Books edition of this book you get free trial access to Million-Books.com where you can select from more than a million books for free. You can also preview the book there.<