Login
|
Join PoetrySoup
Home
Submit Poems
Login
Sign Up
Member Home
My Poems
My Quotes
My Profile & Settings
My Inboxes
My Outboxes
Soup Mail
Contest Results/Status
Contests
Poems
Poets
Famous Poems
Famous Poets
Dictionary
Types of Poems
Quotes
Short Stories
Articles
Forum
Blogs
Poem of the Day
New Poems
Resources
Syllable Counter
Anthology
Grammar Check
Greeting Card Maker
Classifieds
Member Area
Member Home
My Profile and Settings
My Poems
My Quotes
My Short Stories
My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder
Soup Social
Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us
Member Poems
Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Random
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread
Member Poets
Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest
Famous Poems
Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100
Famous Poets
Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War
Poetry Resources
Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetics
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
Store
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter
Email Poem
Your IP Address: 3.17.28.48
From Email:
Required
Email Address Not Valid.
To Email:
Email Address Not Valid.
Required
Subject
Required
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
This is the story the stockman told On the cattle-camp, when the stars were bright; The moon rose up like a globe of gold And flooded the plain with her mellow light. We watched the cattle till dawn of day And he told me the story of Mongrel Grey. He was a knock-about station hack, Spurred and walloped, and banged and beat; Ridden all day with a sore on his back, Left all night with nothing to eat. That was a matter of everyday Normal occurrence with Mongrel Grey. We might have sold him, but someone heard He was bred out back on a flooded run, Where he learnt to swim like a waterbird; Midnight or midday were all as one -- In the flooded ground he would find his way; Nothing could puzzle old Mongrel Grey. 'Tis a trick, no doubt, that some horses learn; When the floods are out they will splash along In girth-deep water, and twist and turn From hidden channel and billabong, Never mistaking the road to go; for a man may guess -- but the horses know. I was camping out with my youngest son -- Bit of a nipper, just learnt to speak -- In an empty hut on the lower run, Shooting and fishing in Conroy's Creek. The youngster toddled about all day And there with our horses was Mongrel Grey. All of a sudden a flood came down, At first a freshet of mountain rain, Roaring and eddying, rank and brown, Over the flats and across the plain. Rising and rising -- at fall of night Nothing but water appeared in sight! 'Tis a nasty place when the floods are out, Even in daylight; for all around Channels and billabongs twist about, Stretching for miles in the flooded ground. And to move seemed a hopeless thing to try In the dark with the storm-water racing by. I had to risk it. I heard a roar As the wind swept down and the driving rain; And the water rose till it reached the floor Of our highest room; and 'twas very plain -- The way the torrent was sweeping down -- We must make for the highlands at once, or drown. Off to the stable I splashed, and found The horses shaking with cold and fright; I led them down to the lower ground, But never a yard would they swim that night! They reared and snorted and turned away, And none would face it but Mongrel Grey. I bound the child on the horse's back, And we started off, with a prayer to heaven, Through the rain and the wind and the pitchy black For I knew that the instinct God has given To prompt His creatures by night and day Would guide the footsteps of Mongrel Grey. He struck deep water at once and swam -- I swam beside him and held his mane -- Till we touched the bank of the broken dam In shallow water; then off again, Swimming in darkness across the flood, Rank with the smell of the drifting mud. He turned and twisted across and back, Choosing the places to wade or swim, Picking the safest and shortest track -- The blackest darkness was clear to him. Did he strike the crossing by sight or smell? The Lord that held him alone could tell! He dodged the timber whene'er he could, But timber brought us to grief at last; I was partly stunned by a log of wood That struck my head as it drifted past; Then lost my grip of the brave old grey, And in half a second he swept away. I reached a tree, where I had to stay, And did a perish for two days' hard; And lived on water -- but Mongrel Grey, He walked right into the homestead yard At dawn next morning, and grazed around, With the child strapped on to him safe and sound. We keep him now for the wife to ride, Nothing too good for him now, of course; Never a whip on his fat old hide, For she owes the child to that brave grey horse. And not Old Tyson himself could pay The purchase money of Mongrel Grey.
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required