Ringed round with whispering rushes,
And many a giant bole,
Of drooping grey-leaved gum trees tall,
Where magpies lilt and scrub doves call
Lies the children's bogey hole.
A circle silvered over,
It gleams beneath the moon,
Reflecting here a glimm'ring star,
Or arch of sky so deep and far,
A dreaming, still lagoon.
Ghost-like, the slender kangaroos
Slip down to drink their fill;
A tawny dingo slinks across
Damp beds of golden-hearted moss,
Below the scrub-flanked hill.
Along the banks the couch grass grows,
Close fibred like a mat;
And thro' the water's gentle wash
There comes the sudden jerky splash
Made by a water rat.
When roses blush about the east,
And clouds of light unroll,
With laugh and shout from out their home
The sturdy station children come
To rush the bogey hole.
Wild waves rise on the mimic sea,
And in the water grass
A shining black snake swims far down
Among the tree roots gnarled and brown,
To let the children pass.
Ringed round with whispering rushes,
And many a giant bole
Of drooping gum trees gaunt and grey,
Where mirth and frolic hold their sway,
Lies the children's bogey hole.
First published in The Australian Town and Country Journal, 15 November 1905
