[Editor: This poem by William Blocksidge (also known as William Baylebridge) was published in Songs o’ the South (1908).]
Forester’s Song
O, I am a King, and a mighty King!
And I hold my court where the bell-birds sing —
Where the bright steel gleams as my axe I swing,
And down to their death tall giants bring!
And what care I for the rich man’s gold?
These treasures of mine are wealth untold:
As I bare my breast to their violence bold,
What scorn for the element Kings I hold!
Yes, a monarch am I; and beneath my sway
Many powerful minions deep homage pay:
Good health and good spirits attend my day,
And banish for ever all care away.
Some Kings may sit in a palace fine;
But none can possess such a palace as mine,
With its lofty pillars of gum and pine,
Hung deep in the wealth of the teeming vine.
O, give me a roof where the wind-blown skies
Rare pictures show to my wondering eyes!
And all that I tell of the forest supplies:
What more can the needs of a King comprise?
O, I am a King, and a mighty King!
And I hold my court where the bell-birds sing —
Where the bright steel gleams as my axe I swing,
And down to their death tall giants bring!
Source:
William Blocksidge, Songs o’ the South, London: Watts, 1908, pp. 3-4
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