On the Track of Grand Endeavour, on the long track out to Bourke, <br />Past the Turn-Back, and past Howlong, and the pub at Sudden Jerk, <br />Past old Bullock-Yoke and Bog Flat, and the “Pinch” at Stick-to-me, <br />Lies the camp that we have christened—christened “Broken Axletree.” <br />We were young and strong and fearless, we had not seen Mount Despair, <br />And the West was to be conquered, and we meant to do our share; <br />We were far away from cities, and were fairly off the spree <br />When we camped at Cart Wheel River with a broken axletree. <br /> <br />Oh, the pub at Devil’s Crossing! and the woman that he sent! <br />And the hell for which we bartered horse and trap and “traps” and tent! <br />And the black “Since Then”—the chances that we never more may see— <br />Ah! the two lives that were ruined for a broken axletree! <br /> <br />“Fate” is but a Cart Wheel River, placed to test us by the Lord, <br />And the Star of Live Forever shines beyond At Blacksmith’s Ford! <br />Shun all fatalists and “isms”—heed no talk of “destiny”! <br />Ride a race for life to Blacksmith’s with your broken axletree.<br /><br />Henry Lawson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/broken-axletree/
