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On The Way To School

Edward S. Sorenson

Tramping, tramping, tramping,
    See the children pass
In the early morning
    Through the frosted grass;
Over hill and hollow,
    Billabong and pool,
From the lone bush homestead,
    ‘Long the road to school.

Bearing books and nose-bags,
    Boots and hosiery.
One behind the other,
    Wet to naked knee.
Cutting through plantations,
    Dodging stook and stool,
Patter little bare feet.
    ‘Long the road to school.

Parrakeet and lory,
    ‘Mong the gum-tree flow’rs,
Gaily chirp and whistle
    Thro’ the morning hours;
While the homely magpie
    Warbles, as a rule,
To the sturdy toddlers
    On the way to school.

When the bell is ringing.
    Still a mile away,
Running with flushed faces,
    Not a minute’s play.
Out at four, to hurry,
    When the days are cool,
Ere the daylight dwindles,
    Home again from school.

Floods and fires confront them
    Oft in giant form,
Branches crash around them
    In the summer storm.
Little cares the youngster—
    He is not a fool
Who has used his wits on
    Lonely tracks to school.

He has learnt the cunning
    Of the pioneers,
He has studied Nature
    From his baby years;
And he’s trained to handle
    Any battle tool,
When his tramp is ended
    On the road to school.

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