The Bush Girl
So you rode from the range where your brothers “select,” Through the ghostly grey bush in the dawn – You rode slowly at first, lest her heart should suspect That you were glad to
Flag of the Southern Cross
Sons of Australia, be loyal and true to her – Fling out the flag of the Southern Cross! Sing a loud song to be joyous and new to her – Fling out the flag
Eureka
Roll up, Eureka’s heroes, on that grand Old Rush afar, For Lalor’s gone to join you in the big camp where you are; Roll up and give him welcome such as only diggers can,
Reedy River
Ten miles down Reedy River A pool of water lies, And all the year it mirrors The changes in the skies, And in that pool’s broad bosom Is room for all the stars; Its
The Vagabond
White handkerchiefs wave from the short black pier As we glide to the grand old sea But the song of my heart is for none to hear If one of them waves for me.
The Dons of Spain
The Eagle screams at the beck of trade, so Spain, as the world goes round, Must wrestle the right to live or die from the sons of the land she found; For, as in
The Roaring Days
The night too quickly passes And we are growing old, So let us fill our glasses And toast the Days of Gold; When finds of wondrous treasure Set all the South ablaze, And you
When The 'Army' Prays For Watty
When the kindly hours of darkness, save for light of moon and star, Hide the picture on the signboard over Doughty’s Horse Bazaar; When the last rose-tint is fading on the distant mulga scrub,
Australian Bards And Bush Reviewers
While you use your best endeavour to immortalise in verse The gambling and the drink which are your country’s greatest curse, While you glorify the bully and take the spieler’s part You’re a clever
I'll tell you what you Wanderers
I’ll tell you what you wanderers, who drift from town to town; Don’t look into a good girl’s eyes, until you’ve settled down. It’s hard to go away alone and leave old chums behind
Marshall's Mate
You almost heard the surface bake, and saw the gum-leaves turn You could have watched the grass scorch brown had there been grass to burn. In such a drought the strongest heart might well
The Captain of the Push
As the night was falling slowly down on city, town and bush, From a slum in Jones’s Alley sloped the Captain of the Push; And he scowled towards the North, and he scowled towards
As far as your Rifles Cover
Do you think, you slaves of a thousand years to poverty, wealth and pride, You can crush the spirit that has been free in a land that’s new and wide? When you’ve scattered the
On the March
So the time seems come at last, And the drums go rolling past, And above them in the sunlight Labour’s banners float and flow; They are marching with the sun, But I look in
In The Days When The World Was Wide
The world is narrow and ways are short, and our lives are dull and slow, For little is new where the crowds resort, and less where the wanderers go; Greater, or smaller, the same