The opening of the railway line…
The Governor and all,
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‘The Animals Noah Forgot’ A. B. 'Banjo' Paterson
A wonderful look at some of the strange, wonderful animals in Australia - images a
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There's a soldier that's been doing of his share
In the fighting up and down and round about.
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And wherefore have they come, this warlike band,
That o'er the ocean many a weary day
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By the winding Wollondilly where the weeping willows weep,
And the shepherd, with his billy, half awake and half asleep,
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'Twas on the famous Empire run,
Whose sun does never set,
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Bring me a quart of colonial beer
And some doughy damper to make good cheer,
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Out in the grey cheerless chill of the morning light,
Out on the track where the night shades still lurk,
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Little bush maiden, wondering-eyed,
Playing alone in the creek-bed dry,
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It was the lunatic poet escaped from the local asylum,
Loudly he twanged on his banjo and sang with his voice like a saw-mill,
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"He ought to be home," said the old man, "without there's something amiss.
He only went to the Two-mile -- he ought to be back by this.
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It came from the prison this morning,
Close-twisted, neat-lettered, and flat;
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My Uncle Bill! My Uncle Bill!
How doth my heart with anguish thrill!
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You never heard tell of the story?
Well, now, I can hardly believe!
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I had written him a letter which I had, for want of better
Knowledge, sent to where I met him down the Lachlan, years ago,
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Let us cease our idle chatter,
Let the tears bedew our cheek,
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We have all of us read how the Israelites fled
From Egypt with Pharaoh in eager pursuit of 'em,
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On Western plains, where shade is not,
'Neath summer skies of cloudless blue,
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'Tis strange that in a land so strong
So strong and bold in mighty youth,
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Why, oh why was Kater lifted
From the darkness, where he drifted
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We see it each day in the paper,
And know that there's mischief in store;
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Oh! the circus swooped down
On the Narrabri town,
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Oh, Mulligan's bar was the deuce of a place
To drink, and to fight, and to gamble and race;
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I dreamt a dream at the midnight deep,
When fancies come and go
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Our fathers, brave men were and strong,
And whisky was their daily liquor;
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The roving breezes come and go
On Kiley's Run,
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The boys had come back from the races
All silent and down on their luck;
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A man once read with mind surprised
Of the way that people were "hypnotised";
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Oh, Mr Gilhooley he turned up his toes,
As most of you know, soon or late;
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The shearers sat in the firelight, hearty and hale and strong,
After the hard day's shearing, passing the joke along:
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