Waltzing Matilda
Oh! there once was a swagman camped in the Billabong,
Under the shade of a Coolabah tree;
And he sang as he looked at his old billy boiling,
“Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me.”
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, my darling,
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
Waltzing Matilda and leading a water-bag-
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
Down came a jumbuck to drink at the water-hole,
Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him in glee;
And he sang as he put him away in his tucker-bag,
“You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!”
Down came the Squatter a-riding his thorough-bred;
Down came Policemen-one, two, and three.
“Whose is the jumbuck you’ve got in the tucker-bag?
You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me.”
But the swagman, he up and he jumped in the water-hole,
Drowning himself by the Coolabah tree;
And his ghost may be heard as it sings in the Billabong,
“Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?”
Related poetry:
- Queen Matilda Henry the first, surnamed ” Beauclare,” Lost his only son William at sea, So when Henry died it were hard to decide Who his heir and successor should be. There were two runners-up for the title – His daughter Matilda was one, And the other, a boy, known as Stephen of Blois, His young sister […]...
- Sends the wrong message What’s in a song John (or is it ‘Knuckles’), what’s In a song about an unemployed, suicidal bum, caught In the act of sheep theft which defines the Australian Psyche? I’ll bet you don’t know but whatever it is Is good enough for you to decide what is, or is not, Appropriate for a team […]...
- Fed Up I ain’t a timid man at all, I’m just as brave as most, I’ll take my chance in open fight and die beside my post; But riding round the ‘ole day long as target for a Krupp, A-drawing fire from Koppies well, I’m fair fed up. It’s wonderful how few get hit, it’s luck that […]...
- The Swagman's Rest We buried old Bob where the bloodwoods wave At the foot of the Eaglehawk; We fashioned a cross on the old man’s grave For fear that his ghost might walk; We carved his name on a bloodwood tree With the date of his sad decease And in place of “Died from effects of spree” We […]...
- Cherry – Tree Inn The rafters are open to sun, moon, and star, Thistles and nettles grow high in the bar The chimneys are crumbling, the log fires are dead, And green mosses spring from the hearthstone instead. The voices are silent, the bustle and din, For the railroad hath ruined the Cherry-tree Inn. Save the glimmer of stars, […]...
- The Fire At Ross's Farm The squatter saw his pastures wide Decrease, as one by one The farmers moving to the west Selected on his run; Selectors took the water up And all the black soil round; The best grass-land the squatter had Was spoilt by Ross’s Ground. Now many schemes to shift old Ross Had racked the squatter’s brains, […]...
- The Shearers Dream O I dreamt I shore in a shearing shed and it was a dream of joy For every one of the rouseabouts was a girl dressed up as a boy Dressed up like a page in a pantomime the prettiest ever seen They had flaxen hair they had coal black hair and every shade between […]...
- Life Is Fine I went down to the river, I set down on the bank. I tried to think but couldn’t, So I jumped in and sank. I came up once and hollered! I came up twice and cried! If that water hadn’t a-been so cold I might’ve sunk and died. But it was Cold in that water! […]...
- FRIST POEM A rainbow comes pouring into my window, I am electrified. Songs burst from my breast, all my crying stops, mistory fills the air. I look for my shues under my bed. A fat colored woman becomes my mother. I have no false teeth yet. Suddenly ten children sit on my lap. I grow a beard […]...
- A Song of Enchantment A song of Enchantment I sang me there, In a green-green wood, by waters fair, Just as the words came up to me I sang it under the wild wood tree. Widdershins turned I, singing it low, Watching the wild birds come and go; No cloud in the deep dark blue to be seen Under […]...
- Conroy's Gap This was the way of it, don’t you know Ryan was “wanted” for stealing sheep, And never a trooper, high or low, Could find him catch a weasel asleep! Till Trooper Scott, from the Stockman’s Ford A bushman, too, as I’ve heard them tell Chanced to find him drunk as a lord Round at the […]...
- The Fountain Oh in the deep blue night The fountain sang alone; It sang to the drowsy heart Of a satyr carved in stone. The fountain sang and sang But the satyr never stirred Only the great white moon In the empty heaven heard. The fountain sang and sang And on the marble rim The milk-white peacocks […]...
- The Idea Of Order At Key West She sang beyond the genius of the sea. The water never formed to mind or voice, Like a body wholly body, fluttering Its empty sleeves; and yet its mimic motion Made constant cry, caused constantly a cry, That was not ours although we understood, Inhuman, of the veritable ocean. The sea was not a mask. […]...
- Meddlesome Matty One ugly trick has often spoil’d The sweetest and the best; Matilda, though a pleasant child, One ugly trick possess’d, Which, like a cloud before the skies, Hid all her better qualities. Sometimes she’d lift the tea-pot lid, To peep at what was in it, Or tilt the kettle, if you did But turn your […]...
- THE HAWTHORN TREE ACROSS the shimmering meadows Ah, when he came to me! In the spring-time, In the night-time, In the starlight, Beneath the hawthorn tree. Up from the misty marsh-land Ah, when he climbed to me! To my white bower, To my sweet rest, To my warm breast, Beneath the hawthorn tree. Ask of me what the […]...
- Guadarrama Guadarrama, is it you, old friend, Mountains white and gray That I used to see painted against the blue Those afternoons of the old days in Madrid? Up your deep ravines And past your bristling peaks A thousand Guadarramas and a thousand suns Come riding with me, riding to your heart....
- Song of the Artesian Water Now the stock have started dying, for the Lord has sent a drought; But we’re sick of prayers and Providence we’re going to do without; With the derricks up above us and the solid earth below, We are waiting at the lever for the word to let her go. Sinking down, deeper down, Oh, we’ll […]...
- Lichtenberg Smells are surer than sounds or sights To make your heart-strings crack They start those awful voices o’ nights That whisper, ” Old man, come back! “ That must be why the big things pass And the little things remain, Like the smell of the wattle by Lichtenberg, Riding in, in the rain. There was […]...
- The Dauntless Three Chris Watson, of the Parliament, By his Caucus Gods he swore That the great Labor Party Should suffer wrong no more. By his Caucus Gods he swore it, And named a trysting day, And bade his Socialists ride forth, East and west and south and north, To summon his array. East and west and south […]...
- The Gundaroo Bullock Oh, there’s some that breeds the Devon that’s as solid as a stone, And there’s some that breeds the brindle which they call the “Goulburn Roan”; But amongst the breeds of cattle there are very, very few Like the hairy-whiskered bullock that they breed at Gundaroo. Far away by Grabben Gullen, where the Murrumbidgee flows, […]...
- The Grindstone Having a wheel and four legs of its own Has never availed the cumbersome grindstone To get it anywhere that I can see. These hands have helped it go, and even race; Not all the motion, though, they ever lent, Not all tke miles it may have thought it went, Have got it one step […]...
- The 'Ole in the Ark One evening at dusk as Noah stood on his Ark, Putting green oil in starboard side lamp, His wife came along and said, ‘Noah, summat’s wrong, Our cabin is getting quite damp. Noah said, ‘Is that so?’ Then he went down below, And found it were right what she’d said, For there on the floor […]...
- In the Stable What! you don’t like him; well, maybe we all have our fancies, of course: Brumby to look at, you reckon? Well, no; he’s a thoroughbred horse; Sired by a son of old Panic look at his ears and his head Lop-eared and Roman-nosed, ain’t he? well, that’s how the Panics are bred. Gluttonous, ugly and […]...
- The Story of Mongrel Grey This is the story the stockman told On the cattle-camp, when the stars were bright; The moon rose up like a globe of gold And flooded the plain with her mellow light. We watched the cattle till dawn of day And he told me the story of Mongrel Grey. He was a knock-about station hack, […]...
- The Happy Townland There’s many a strong farmer Whose heart would break in two, If he could see the townland That we are riding to; Boughs have their fruit and blossom At all times of the year; Rivers are running over With red beer and brown beer. An old man plays the bagpipes In a golden and silver […]...
- Frogs in chorus The chorus frogs in the big lagoon Would sing their songs to the silvery moon. Tenor singers were out of place, For every frog was a double bass. But never a human chorus yet Could beat the accurate time they set. The solo singer began the joke; He sang, “As long as I live I’ll […]...
- In The Willow Shade I sat beneath a willow tree, Where water falls and calls; While fancies upon fancies solaced me, Some true, and some were false. Who set their heart upon a hope That never comes to pass, Droop in the end like fading heliotrope The sun’s wan looking-glass. Who set their will upon a whim Clung to […]...
- The City Bushman It was pleasant up the country, City Bushman, where you went, For you sought the greener patches and you travelled like a gent; And you curse the trams and buses and the turmoil and the push, Though you know the squalid city needn’t keep you from the bush; But we lately heard you singing of […]...
- The Old Swimmin'-Hole OH! the old swimmin’-hole! whare the crick so still and deep Looked like a baby-river that was laying half asleep, And the gurgle of the worter round the drift jest below Sounded like the laugh of something we onc’t ust to know Before we could remember anything but the eyes Of the angels lookin’ out […]...
- The Yukoner He burned a hole in frozen muck, He pierced the icy mould, And there in six-foot dirt he struck A sack or so of gold. He burned holes in the Decalogue, And then it cam about, For Fortune’s just a lousy rogue, His “pocket” petered out. And lo! ’twas but a year all told, When […]...
- Jubal and Tubal Cain Canadian Jubal sang of the Wrath of God And the curse of thistle and thorn But Tubal got him a pointed rod, And scrabbled the earth for corn. Old old as that early mould, Young as the sprouting grain Yearly green is the strife between Jubal and Tubal Cain! Jubal sang of the new-found sea, […]...
- The House Of Hospitalities Here we broached the Christmas barrel, Pushed up the charred log-ends; Here we sang the Christmas carol, And called in friends. Time has tired me since we met here When the folk now dead were young, And the viands were outset here And quaint songs sung. And the worm has bored the viol That used […]...
- Delilah We have another viceroy now, those days are dead and done Of Delilah Aberyswith and depraved Ulysses Gunne. Delilah Aberyswith was a lady not too young With a perfect taste in dresses and a badly-bitted tongue, With a thirst for information, and a greater thirst for praise, And a little house in Simla in the […]...
- Daft icarus it began as a secret desire (an itch In the marrow too vague to get through To the bone) an idea that never could Make it as flesh – there wasn’t a part of me Sane i could tell that would have spared It a breath to get started so i slept One midday i […]...
- Baby Lazarus When I got home I went out into the garden Liking it when the frost bit My old brown boots And dug a hole the size of a baby And buried the clothes I’d bought anyway, just in case. A week later I stood at my window And saw the ground move And swell the […]...
- XII. Written at a Convent IF chance some pensive stranger, hither led, His bosom glowing from majestic views, The gorgeous dome, or the proud landscape’s hues, Should ask who sleeps beneath this lowly bed ‘Tis poor Matilda! To the cloister’d scene, A mourner, beauteous and unknown, she came, To shed her tears unseen; and quench the flame Of fruitless love: […]...
- Nimrodel An Elven-maid there was of old, A shining star by day. Her mantle white was hemmed with gold, Her shoes of silver-grey. A star was bound upon her brows, A light was on her hair As sun upon the golden boughs In Lorien the fair. Her hair was long, her limbs were white, And fair […]...
- Sez You When the heavy sand is yielding backward from your blistered feet, And across the distant timber you can SEE the flowing heat; When your head is hot and aching, and the shadeless plain is wide, And it’s fifteen miles to water in the scrub the other side Don’t give up, don’t be down-hearted, to a […]...
- Weary Will The strongest creature for his size But least equipped for combat That dwells beneath Australian skies Is Weary Will the Wombat. He digs his homestead underground, He’s neither shrewd nor clever; For kangaroos can leap and bound But wombats dig forever. The boundary rider’s netting fence Excites his irritation; It is to his untutored sense […]...
- My Papa's Waltz The whiskey on your breath Could make a small boy dizzy; But I hung on like death: Such waltzing was not easy. We romped until the pans Slid from the kitchen shelf; My mother’s countenance Could not unfrown itself. The hand that held my wrist Was battered on one knuckle; At every step you missed […]...