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C J Dennis - Flames
Work rating: Low

It`s human nature for a bashful bloke
  To bottle up, an` hesitate, an` doubt
Till grinnin` Fate plays him some low-down joke;
  Then, in excitement, he goes blurtin` out
The tale his sane mind never would impart,
So all the near-by world knows it by heart.

Good luck for me, the near-by world that day,
  When I ran sobbin` thro` the scorchin` fern,
Held few to hear the foolish things I say;
  No one was there my secret thought to learn,
As I went shoutin` down the mountain spur,
Only the scared birds, an` the trees, an` Her.

In fancy, many men have been thro` Hell,
  Tortured by fear, when hope has amost died;
But few have gone thro` that, an` fire as well
  To come on Heaven on the other side
With just one angel in it, safe an` well -
A cool, calm angel by the name of Nell.

The day the fire came sweepin` down the hill,
  Lickin` the forest up like some mad beast,
We had our work cut out to save the mill;
  An`, when the wind swung round into the East,
An` blew the roarin` flames along the spur,
Straight for "The Height," I gets quick fear for Her.

Flat out I was fightin` all day long -
  (We saved the mill-shed, but the huts were done) -
When some bloke, weak with sprintin` comes along -
  (Comic, it seemed, to me the way he run) -
Shoutin` that someone`s missin` from "The Height,"
An` all the forest at the back`s alight.

I don`t what he thought, an` never cared,
  When I grabs at his coat an` starts to yell.
I only know that I was dreadful scared. . . .
  In half a minute more, I guessed `twas Nell.
He tell me when an` where they thought she went,
An` of the useless searchers they had sent.

I never waits for more; but turned an` ran
  Straight for the spur, along the scorchin` track.
Behind me, as I went, I hear some man -
  I think it`s Pike - bawlin`, "You fool! Come back!"
What plan was in my mind I cannot tell;
I only know I want to find my Nell.

Next thing I mind, I`ve left the track, an` turned
  Into the blackened scrub - my eyes feel bad -
Above my head the messmate trees still burned.
  An` Lord, them awful fancies that I had!
I seen her lyin` there - her face - her hair. . . .
Why, even now, them thoughts give me a scare.

I stumble on.  Against a red-hot butt
  I burn my hand, but never even swear;
But keep on sayin`, "Make the splitter`s hut,
  The splitter`s hut!  Get to the clearin` there.
She`s at the splitter`s hut; an` if she ain`t . . ."
My heart turns over, an` I feel dead faint.

An` as I plug along, I hear some fool
  Repeatin` words till they sound like a spell.
"I`m goin` mad," I thinks.  "Keep cool! Keep cool!"
  But still the voice goes on" "My Nell!  My Nell!"
I whips round quick to see who he can be,
This yappin` fool - then realize it`s me.

They say I must have gone thro` blazin` ferns.
  Perhaps I did; but I don`t recollect.
My mind was blank, but, judgin` by my burns,
  There`s something got to me that took effect.
But once, I know, I saw a flamin` tree
Fall just behind me; but that don`t trouble me.

I don`t know how the reached the splitter`s hut,
  I only saw the ragin` fire - an` Nell.
My clothes were torn, my face an` hands were cut,
  An` half a dozen times, at least, I fell.
I burst into the clearin` . . . an` I look. . . .
She`s sittin` on a log there - with a book!

I seem to cross that clearin` in a stride,
  Still sobbin` like a kid:  "My Nell! My nell!"
I was clean mad.  But, as I reach her side,
  I sort of wake, an` give that song a spell.
But, by her eyes, for all she seemed so cool,
I know she must have heard, an` feel a fool.

"Why, Mister Jim?  You do look hot," says she.
  (But still her eyes says oceans more than that).
"Did you come all the way up here for me?"
  Coolness?  I tell you straight, it knocked me flat.
By rights, she should fall sobbin` in my arms;
But no; there weren`t no shrieks an` no alarms.

I pulls myself together with a jerk.
  "Oh, just a stroll," I says.  "Don`t mention it.
The mill`s half burnt, an` I am out of work;
  They missed you so I looked around a bit."
"Now, that was good of you," says she, reel bright.
"Wasn`t the bush-fire such a splendid sight?"

She looks me up and down.  "Why, Mister Jim,"
  She says to me, "you do look hot, indeed.
If you go strollin` that way for a whim
  Whatever would you do in case of need?"
That`s what she said.  But with her eyes she sent
More than her thanks; an` I was quite content.

I seen her home; or, rather, she seen me,
  For I was weak, an` fumbled in my stride.
But, when we reached "The Height," I seen that she
  Was just in breakin`; an` she went inside. . . . 
I stumbles home.  "Well, Jim, lad, anyway,"
I tells myself, "you`ve had a fine, full day.
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