“You led the trump,” the old man said With fury in his eye, “And yet you hope my girl to wed! Young man! your hopes of love are fled, ‘Twere better she should die!
The mountain road goes up and down From Gundagai to Tumut Town And, branching off, there runs a track Across the foothills grim and black, Across the plains and ranges grey To Sydney city
Him goin’ to ride for us! Him with the pants and the eyeglass and all. Amateur! don’t he just look it it’s twenty to one on a fall. Boss must be gone off his
When you’re lying in your hammock, sleeping soft and sleeping sound, Without a care or trouble on your mind, And there’s nothing to disturb you but the engines going round, And you’re dreaming of
The roving breezes come and go, the reed-beds sweep and sway, The sleepy river murmers low, and loiters on its way, It is the land of lots o’time along the Castlereagh. . . ..
The daylight is dying Away in the west, The wild birds are flying In silence to rest; In leafage and frondage Where shadows are deep, They pass to its bondage The kingdom of sleep
“Only a pound,” said the auctioneer, “Only a pound; and I’m standing here Selling this animal, gain or loss Only a pound for the drover’s horse? One of the sort that was ne’er afraid,
Men fight all shapes and sizes as the racing horses run, And no man knows his courage till he stands before a gun. At mixed-up fighting, hand to hand, and clawing men about They
Scene: Federal Political Arena A darkened cave. In the middle, a cauldron, boiling. Enter the three witches. 1ST WITCH: Thrice hath the Federal Jackass brayed. 2ND WITCH: Once the Bruce-Smith War-horse neighed. 3RD WITCH:
As I lie at rest on a patch of clover In the Western Park when the day is done. I watch as the wild black swans fly over With their phalanx turned to the
A land, as far as the eye can see, where the waving grasses grow Or the plains are blackened and burnt and bare, where the false mirages go Like shifting symbols of hope deferred
I This is the sunburnt bushman who Came down from Goondiwindi, Q. II This is the Push from Waterloo That spotted the sunburnt bushman who Came down from Goondiwindi, Q. III These are the
The Boers were down on Kimberley with siege and Maxim gun; The Boers were down on Kimberley, their numbers ten to one! Faint were the hopes the British had to make the struggle good
It was over at Coolgardie that a mining speculator, Who was going down the township just to make a bit o’ chink, Went off to hire a camel from a camel propagator, And the
Across the Queensland border line The mobs of cattle go; They travel down in sun and shine On dusty stage, and slow. The drovers, riding slowly on To let the cattle spread, Will say:
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