At Ballandean!
“Old Jack!” I said; “Old Jack McQuade!”
And grasped his lean and palsied hand—
“However wide our lives have strayed,
You surely recognise the shade
Of Charlie Brand?”
[175]
]But still he munched his blackened clay;
I felt no warmth within his palm;
He shook his matted head of grey,
And clutched his prisoned hand away