On Frosty Days by David Campbell

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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.

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