Henry Kendall (Генри Кендалл)

Poems and Songs (1862). The Wild Kangaroo

   The rain-clouds have gone to the deep—
    The East like a furnace doth glow;
   And the day-spring is flooding the steep,
    And sheening the landscape below.
   Oh, ye who are gifted with souls
    That delight in the music of birds,
   Come forth where the scattered mist rolls,
    And listen to eloquent words!
   Oh, ye who are fond of the sport,
    And would travel yon wilderness through,
   Gather—each to his place—for a life-stirring chase,
    In the wake of the wild Kangaroo!
       Gather—each to his place—
       For a life-stirring chase
    In the wake of the wild Kangaroo!

   Beyond the wide rents of the fog,
    The trees are illumined with gold;
   And the bark of the shepherd's brave dog
    Shoots away from the sheltering fold.
   Down the depths of yon rock-border'd glade,
    A torrent goes foaming along;
   And the blind-owls retire into shade,
    And the bell-bird beginneth its song.
   By the side of that yawning abyss,
    Where the vapours are hurrying to,
   We will merrily pass, looking down to the grass
    For the tracks of the wild Kangaroo!
       We will merrily pass,
       Looking down to the grass
    For the tracks of the wild Kangaroo.

   Ho, brothers, away to the woods;
    Euroka hath clambered the hill;
   But the morning there seldom intrudes,
    Where the night-shadows slumber on still.
   We will roam o'er these forest-lands wild,
    And thread the dark masses of vines,
   Where the winds, like the voice of a child,
    Are singing aloft in the pines.
   We must keep down the glee of our hounds;
    We must steal through the glittering dew;
   And the breezes shall sleep as we cautiously creep
    To the haunts of the wild Kangaroo.
       And the breezes shall sleep,
       As we cautiously creep
    To the haunts of the wild Kangaroo.

   When we pass through a stillness like death
    The swamp fowl and timorous quail,
   Like the leaves in a hurricane's breath,
    Will start from their nests in the vale;
   And the forester,* snuffing the air,
    Will bound from his covert so dark,
   While we follow along in the rear,
    As arrows speed on to their mark!
   Then the swift hounds shall bring him to bay,
    And we'll send forth a hearty halloo,
   As we gather them all to be in at the fall—
    At the death of the wild Kangaroo!
       As we gather them all
       To be in at the fall—
    At the death of the wild Kangaroo!

   * The Kangaroo.

1. Early Poems (1859-70). James Lionel Michael
2. Early Poems (1859-70). Elijah
3. Early Poems (1859-70). Caroline Chisholm
4. Other Poems (1871-82). How the Melbourne Cup was Won
5. Early Poems (1859-70). Cui Bono?

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