I am a native of the land of Erin, and lately banished from that lovely shore;
53 lines, 4 comments
Bold are the mounted robbers who on stolen horses ride
And bold the mounted troopers who patrol the Sydney side;
44 lines, 8 comments
Dark over the face of Nature sublime Reign'd tyranny, warfare, and every crime;
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Gulls, wheeling overhead,
'Light on the crags,
17 lines, 2 comments
Had I gone first he surely would have writ
Some kindly words in loving memory --
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Hurrah for the Roma railway! Hurrah for Cobb and Co.,
And oh! for a good fat horse or two to carry me Westward Ho --
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High noon, and not a cloud in the sky To break this blinding sun.
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This is the tale of Norton
Who vowed a vow, by zounds,
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It's ah ! for my grog, my jolly, jolly grog,
It's ah ! for my beer and tobacco;
29 lines, 1 comment
THE weather had been sultry for a fortnight's time or more,
And the shearers had been driving might and main,
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Oh! don't you remember Black Alice, Sam Holt -
Black Alice so dusky and dark -
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Hark! Hark! the dogs are barking, I can no longer stay;
The boys have all gone shearing, so I heard the shepherd say;
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My name is Ben Hall from Urunga I came,
The cause of my turn out you all know the same;
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When I was at home I was down on my luck,
And I earned a poor living by drawing a truck;
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'Twas of a valiant highwayman and outlaw of disdain
Who'd scorn to live in slavery or wear a convicts chain;
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In Dublin town I was brought up, in that city of great fame.
My decent friends and parents, they will tell to you the same.
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Come all you gallant bushrangers who gallop o'er the plains
Refuse to live in slavery, or wear the convict chains.
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Farewell to old England for ever,
Farewell to my rum culls as well,
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Away with those whimsical bubbles of air
Which only excite a momentary stare;
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Lonely and sadly one night in November
I laid down my weary head in search of repose
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A life that is free as the bandit's of old,
When Rome was the prey of the warriers bold
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Shadows of the twilight falling
On the mountain's brow,
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Farewell and adieu to you, Brisbane ladies
Farewell and adieu, you maids of Toowong
42 lines, 1 comment
Out on the board the old shearer stands,
Grasping his shears in his long, bony hands,
45 lines, 3 comments
When first I came to Sydney Cove
And up and down the streets did rove,
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Poor Tom Brown from Nottingham, Jack Williams and poor Joe
They were three gallant poacher boys their country well does know
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Come all Australia's sons to me --
A hero has been slain
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Over near a chock-and-log hut,
Down by the river-side,
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Come! all ye lads of loyalty,
and listen to my tale;
61 lines, 3 comments
Dwell not with me,
For you'll never see
16 lines, 1 comment
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