Tall and freckled and sandy, Face of a country lout;
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The world has had enough of bards who wish that they were dead,
'Tis time the people passed a law to knock 'em on the head,
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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?
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I LISTENED through the music and the sounds of revelry,
And all the hollow noises of that year of Jubilee;
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Macquarie the shearer had met with an accident. To tell the truth, he had been in a drunken row at a wayside shanty, from which he had escaped with three fractu
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The night came down thro’ Deadman’s Gap,
Where the ghostly saplings bent
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At suburban railway stations---you may see them as you pass---
there are signboards on the platform saying "Wait here second class,"
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Over there, above the jetty, stands the mansion of the Vardens,
With a tennis ground and terrace, and a flagstaff in the gardens:
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The fields are fair in autumn yet, and the sun's still shining there,
But we bow our heads and we brood and fret, because of the masks we wear;
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Said Grenfell to my spirit, "You’ve been writing very free
Of the charms of other places, and you don’t remember me.
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Now this is the creed from the Book of the Bush –
Should be simple and plain to a dunce:
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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.
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Man, is the Sea your master? Sea, and is man your slave? –
This is the song of brave men who never know they are brave:
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Now, with the wars of the world begun, they'll listen to you and me,
Now while the frightened nations run to the arms of democracy,
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The future was dark and the past was dead
As they gazed on the sea once more –
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By our place in the midst of the furthest seas we were fated to stand alone -
When the nations fly at each other's throats let Australia look to her own;
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Where the needle-woman toils
Through the night with hand and brain,
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They have eaten their fill at your tables spread,
Like friends since the land was won;
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So the time seems come at last,
And the drums go rolling past,
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Ten miles down Reedy River
A pool of water lies,
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We're marching along, we're gath'ring strong'
We place on our right reliance,
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'Twixt the coastline and the border lay the town of Grog-an'-Grumble
In the days before the bushman was a dull 'n' heartless drudge,
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It was built of bark and poles, and the floor was full of holes
Where each leak in rainy weather made a pool;
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We hear a great commotion
'Bout the ship that comes to grief,
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You ask me to be gay and glad
While lurid clouds of danger loom,
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The centuries found me to nations unknown –
My people have crowned me and made me a throne;
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Fear ye not the stormy future, for the Battle Hymn is strong,
And the armies of Australia shall not march without a song;
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PART I
Queen Hilda rode along the lines,
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Wide lies Australia! The seas that surround her
Flow for her unity – all states in one.
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By Lawson's Hill, near Mudgee,
On old Eurunderee –
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