On frosty days, when I was young,
I rode out early with the men
And mustered cattle till their long
Blue shadows covered half the plain;
And when we turned our horses round,
Only the homestead’s point of light,
Men’s voices, and the bridles’ sound,
Were left in the enormous night.
And now again the sun has set
All yellow and a greening sky
Sucks up the colour from the wheat—
And here’s my horse, my dog and I.
