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Famous Dingo Poems by Famous Poets

These are examples of famous Dingo poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous dingo poems. These examples illustrate what a famous dingo poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).

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by Paterson, Andrew Barton
...o, 
Buried to nose and throat. 

From the hunter's gun he hides 
In the jungle's dark and damp, 
Where the slinking dingo glides 
And the flying foxes camp; 
Hanging like myriad fiends in line 
Where the trailing creepers twist and twine 
And the sun is a sluggish lamp. 

On the edge of the rolling plains 
Where the coarse cane grasses swell, 
Lush with the tropic rains 
In the noontide's drowsy spell, 
Slowly the buffalo grazes through 
Where the brolgas dance, and t...Read more of this...



by Paterson, Andrew Barton
...uth and strange, 
Were mustered round at the "Shadow of Death". 

The trooper knew that his man would slide 
Like a dingo pup, if he saw the chance; 
And with half a start on the mountain side 
Ryan would lead him a merry dance. 
Drunk as he was when the trooper came, 
to him that did not matter a rap -- 
Drunk or sober, he was the same, 
The boldest rider in Conroy's Gap. 

"I want you, Ryan," the trooper said, 
"And listen to me, if you dare resist, 
So help me ...Read more of this...

by Paterson, Andrew Barton
...'Twas the dingo pup to his dam that said, 
"It's time I worked for my daily bread. 
Out in the world I intend to go, 
And you'd be surprised at the things I know. 

"There's a wild duck's nest in a sheltered spot, 
And I'll go right down and I'll eat the lot." 
But when he got to his destined prey 
He found that the ducks had flown away. 

But an egg w...Read more of this...

by Paterson, Andrew Barton
...mu ran with her frightened brood 
All unmolested and unpursued. 
But there rose a shout and a wild hubbub 
When the dingo raced for his native scrub, 
And he paid right dear for his stolen meals 
With the drovers' dogs at his wretched heels. 
For we ran him down at a rattling pace, 
While the pack-horse joined in the stirring chase. 
And a wild halloo at the kill we'd raise -- 
We were light of heart in the droving days. 
'Twas a drover's horse, and my hand ag...Read more of this...

by Lawson, Henry
...uch a drought the strongest heart might well grow faint and weak -- 
'Twould frighten Satan to his home -- not far from Dingo Creek. 

The tanks went dry on Ninety Mile, as tanks go dry out back, 
The Half-Way Spring had failed at last when Marshall missed the track; 
Beneath a dead tree on the plain we saw a pack-horse reel -- 
Too blind to see there was no shade, and too done-up to feel. 
And charcoaled on the canvas bag (`twas written pretty clear) 
We read the mes...Read more of this...



by Lawson, Henry
...for my bunk, 
And a calico bag for my damper and junk; 
And scarcely a comrade my memory reveals, 
Save the spiritless dingo in tow of my heels. 

But I think of the honest old light of my home 
When the stars hang in clusters like lamps from the dome, 
And I think of the hearth where the dark shadows fall, 
When my camp fire is built on the widest of all; 
But I'm following Fate, for I know she knows best, 
I follow, she leads, and it's nor'-west by west. 

When my ...Read more of this...

by Paterson, Andrew Barton
...e in) 
"O mother, here I think 
That I shall have to sink, 
There ain't a single drink 
The water-bottle in." 

The dingo homeward hies, 
The sooty crows uprise 
And caw their fierce surprise 
A tone Satanic in; 
And bearded bushmen tread 
Around the sleeper's head -- 
"See here -- the bloke is dead! 
Now where's his pannikin?" 

They read his words and weep, 
And lay him down to sleep 
Where wattle branches sweep, 
A style mechanic in; 
And, reader, that's the way 
The p...Read more of this...

by Gordon, Adam Lindsay
...d to call it from our homestead to the place 
Where the big tree spans the roadway like an arch; 
'Twas here we ran the dingo down that gave us such a chase 
Eight years ago -- or was it nine? -- last March. 
'Twas merry in the glowing morn among the gleaming grass, 
To wander as we've wandered many a mile, 
And blow the cool tobacco cloud, and watch the white wreaths pass, 
Sitting loosely in the saddle all the while. 
'Twas merry 'mid the blackwoods, when we spied t...Read more of this...

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