Some other Somebody

Harry Morant

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Somebody's horse has finished his feed,
Somebody's saddle is on;
But never a nigger the tracks can read,
Or know where Somebody's gone.

Over the rails and up the creek,
As soon as the sun goes down:
How is it every night this week
That Somebody's off to town?

Grass is dewy, and overhead
Evening stars are bright;
And startled wallabies hear the tread
Of galloping hoofs at night.

Through the scrub and over the plain
Somebody's galloping fast;
Never a pull on the bridle rein
Till the town lights show at last.

Somebody's horse has whips o' work -
Whips o' work of late -
Since Somebody's brown was seen in town
Tied to Somebody's gate.

But the wherefore why Somebody rides,
And the track that the brown horse goes,
Only his rider (and one besides:
Some other Somebody) knows!

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  • renedube7355

    This is one of thos poems I remember readin' when I was jst a kid. The sense of adventure and mystery it painted has been somethin' can't forget, makes me want to revisit this again and again. Feels right nostalgic. Brings back simpler times of youth and intrigue. Never gets old, truly.