The bushranger and Annie McGinnis

 

 

The bushranger and Annie McGinnis

It's a lonely road back from the hilltop                
There a cross waits beside open ground            
This  the saddest of treks on the gravel track
where the sullen dark notes may be found

There the sulkies with horses stand waiting
but  weeping the desolate sound
While the preacher walks slowly among them,
a wistful  look back at the mound

Cruel pain in the chests of the mourners
who loved the young girl from her birth
With  the hymns and the prayers spoken gently
their tears falling soft to the earth

So the songs are not rousing or joyous
there's an ache in the group as they sing
Though the sky lends an ear to their chorus
a shadow hangs low in the ring

There's a rider away on the hillside,
where he waits with a tear in his eye
For he held up the stage near Mildura
not thinking that someone would die

The coach carried Mary McGinnis
the mother with two little girls
Dressed up in their finest of dresses,
Long hair raven black in loose curls

The rider had bailed up the wagon,
demanding the gold from the bank
But the driver was quick with his rifle
and glanced the bushrangers right flank

As he struggled to stay in his saddle,
he let go a single dull round
When he looked at the scene in a moment
a child laying there on the ground

The mother held tight to her Annie
who slipped in a thrice to her fate
That rider took fright as he left them
and knew he was bound for hell,s gate

Now he knows that the gallows awaits him
and he knows that HIS mother will sing
and a thought haunts his mind with a rhythmic grind
, "I was born all along just to swing"

It's a lonely road back from the hilltop
where a cross waits beside open ground
This the saddest of treks  on the old gravel track
where the sullen dark notes make the sound

Mick Martin

20/7/13 version 7

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