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Horse And Saddle

Edward S. Sorenson

In the summer dawn astraddle,
For the joy of horse and saddle,
                 Man and maid
Briskly troop with tugging bridle,
Where bush creatures browse and idle
                 Half afraid.

By the gun-clad hills we rattle,
Scattering the timid cattle
                 On our way,
Is the hush before the chorus
Of the bush birds nestling o'er us
                 Greet the day.

Our creeks that know no bridges,
Winding ‘tween the greening ridges
                 Far aloof;
Plunging through green reeds and rushes,
Where the water leaps and splashes
                 Underhoof.

To the bellbirds’ notes we listen,
While the dew begins to glisten
                 On the grass,
And a dingo leaps for cover
To the crying of the plover
                 As we pass.

At the road of mail and rover,
Brisk we turn, and leaping over
                 Log and hole,
Down along the broken courses,
How our fresh, impatient horses
                 Caracole!

Airy station chimes commingle
With our stirrups' clank and jingle;
                 Thus do we
'Mid a gust of playful banter,
Sporting homeward, end our canter
                 Merrily.

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