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1. |
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The Sliprails and the Spur (1899)
by Henry Lawson
(1867 – 1922)
----------------------------
[V.1]
The colours of the setting sun
Withdrew across the Western land —
He raised the sliprails, one by one,
And shot them home with trembling hand ;
Her brown hands clung — her face grew pale —
Ah! quivering chin and eyes that brim ! —
One quick, fierce kiss across the rail,
And, ' Good-bye, Mary ! ' 'Good-bye, Jim ! '
------------------------------------
[ CHORUS 1 ]
Oh, he rides hard to race the pain
Who rides from love, who rides from home;
But he rides slowly home again,
Whose heart has learnt to love and roam.
------------------------------------
[V.2]
A hand upon the horse's mane,
And one foot in the stirrup set,
And, stooping back to kiss again,
With ' Good-bye, Mary ! Don't you fret !
When I come back' — he laughed for her —
' We do not know how soon 'twill be;
I'll whistle as I round the spur —
You let the sliprails down for me. '
------------------------------------
[V.3]
She gasped for sudden loss of hope,
As, with a backward wave to her,
He cantered down the grassy slope
And swiftly round the dark'ning spur.
Black-pencilled panels standing high,
And darkness fading into stars,
And blurring fast against the sky,
A faint white form beside the bars.
-----------------------------------------
[V.4]
And often at the set of sun,
In winter bleak and summer brown,
She'd steal across the little run,
And shyly let the sliprails down.
And listen there when darkness shut
The nearer spur in silence deep ;
And when they called her from the hut
Steal home and cry herself to sleep.
-------------------------------------
[V.5]
A great white gate where sliprails were,
A brick house 'neath the mountain brow,
The "mad girl" buried by the spur
So long ago, forgotten now.
------------------------------------------
[ CHORUS 2]
And he rides hard to dull the pain
Who rides from one that loves him best;
And he rides slowly back again,
Whose restless heart must rove for rest.
==========================
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2. |
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Past Carin' ( 1899 )
by Henry Lawson
(1867 – 1922)
===========================
[ V.1 ]
Now up and down the siding brown
The great black crows are flyin',
And down below the spur, I know,
Another `milker's' dyin';
-------------------------------------------------
The crops have withered from the ground,
The tank's clay bed is glarin',
But from my heart no tear nor sound,
For I have gone past carin' –
-------------------------------------------------
Past worryin' or carin',
Past feelin' aught or carin';
But from my heart no tear nor sound,
For I have gone past carin'.
============================== ============
[ V.2 ]
Through Death and Trouble, turn about,
Through hopeless desolation,
Through flood and fever, fire and drought,
And slavery and starvation;
------------------------------------------------
Through childbirth, sickness, hurt, and blight,
And nervousness an' scarin',
Through bein' left alone at night,
I've got to be past carin'.
-----------------------------------------------
Past botherin' or carin',
Past feelin' and past carin';
Through city cheats and neighbours' spite,
I've come to be past carin'.
================================
[ V.3 ]
Our first child took, in days like these,
A cruel week in dyin',
All day upon her father's knees,
Or on my poor breast lyin';
---------------------------------------------------
The tears we shed -- the prayers we said
Were awful, wild -- despairin' !
I've pulled three through, and buried two
Since then -- and I'm past carin'.
---------------------------------------------------
I've grown to be past carin',
Past worryin' and wearin';
I've pulled three through and buried two
Since then, and I'm past carin'.
===================================
[ V.4 ]
'Twas ten years first, then came the worst,
All for a dusty clearin',
I thought, I thought my heart would burst
When first my man went shearin';
----------------------------------------------
He's drovin' in the great North-west,
I don't know how he's farin';
For I, the one that-who loved him best,
Have grown to be past carin'.
--------------------------------------------------
I've grown to be past carin'
Past lookin' for or carin';
The girl that waited long ago,
Has lived to be past carin'.
=================================
[ V.5 ]
My eyes are dry, I cannot cry,
I've got no heart for breakin',
But where it was in days gone by,
A dull and empty achin'.
-----------------------------------------------
My last boy ran away from me,
I know my temper's wearin',
But now I only wish to be
Beyond all signs of carin'.
---------------------------------------------
Past wearyin' or carin',
Past feelin' and despairin';
And now I only wish to be
Beyond all signs of carin'.
==============================
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3. |
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============= LYRICS =================
Second Class Wait Here ( 1899 )
by Henry Lawson ( 1867 – 1922 )
------------------------------------------------------
[ V.1 ]
On suburban railway stations - you may see them as you pass –
There are signboards on the platforms saying, 'Wait here second class'
And to me the whirr and thunder and the cluck of running gear
Seem to be for ever saying, saying 'Second class wait here' -
[ CHORUS ] 'Wait here second class, second class wait here.'
Seem to be for ever saying, saying 'Second class …………. wait here' –
-----------------------------------------------------
[ V.2]
And the second class were waiting, in the days of serf and prince,
And the second class are waiting — they've been waiting ever since.
There are gardens in the background, and the line is bare and drear,
Yet they wait beneath a signboard, sneering 'Second class wait here.'
[ CHORUS ] 'Wait here second class, second class wait here.'
Yet they wait beneath a signboard, sneering 'Second class …………..wait here.'
-----------------------------------------------------
[ V.3]
I have waited oft in winter, in the mornings dark and damp,
When the asphalt platform glistened underneath the lonely lamp.
Ghastly on the brick-faced cutting ' Sellum's Soap ' and ' Blower's Beer; '
Ghastly on enamelled signboards with their “ Second class wait here” .
[ CHORUS ] 'Wait here second class, second class wait here.'
Ghastly on enamelled signboards with their “ Second class …………….. wait here”
--------------------------------------------------------
[ V.4]
And the others seemed like burglars, slouched and muffled to the throats,
Standing round apart and silent in their shoddy overcoats,
And the wind among the wires, and the poplars bleak and bare,
Seemed to be for ever snarling, snarling “Second class wait there.”
[ CHORUS ] 'Wait there second class, second class wait there.'
Seemed to be for ever snarling, snarling “Second class ……………..wait there.”
------------------------------------------------------
[ V.5]
Out beyond the further suburb, 'neath a chimney stack alone,
Lay the works of Grinder Brothers, with a platform of their own;
And I waited there and suffered, waited there for many a year,
Slaved beneath a phantom signboard, telling our class to wait here
[ CHORUS ] 'Wait here second class, second class wait here.'
Slaved beneath a phantom signboard, telling our class ……………. “ Wait here.”
-----------------------------------------------------
[ V.6]
Ah! a man must feel revengeful for a boyhood such as mine.
God ! I hate the very houses near the workshop by the line;
And the smell of railway stations, and the roar of running gear,
And the scornful-seeming signboards, saying “Second class wait here.”
[ CHORUS ] 'Wait here second class, second class wait here.'
And the scornful-seeming signboards, saying “Second class ……………………. wait here.”
---------------------------------------------------------
[ V.7 ]
There's a train with Death for driver, which is ever going past,
And there are no class compartments, and we all must go at last
To the long white jasper platform with an Eden in the rear ;
And there won't be any signboards, saying “Second class wait here.”
[ CHORUS ] 'Wait here second class, second class wait here.'
And there won't be any signboards, saying “Second class ………………….. wait here.”
=======================================
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4. |
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The Never-Never Land (abridged) (1901)
by Henry Lawson (1867–1922)
===========================
[ V.1 ]
By homestead, hut, and shearing-shed,
By railroad, coach, and track -
By lonely graves where rest our dead,
Up Country and Out Back;
To where beneath the clustered stars
The dreamy plains expand -
My home lies wide a thousand miles
In the Never-Never Land.
-------------------------------------------------
[ V.2 ]
It lies beyond the farming-belt,
Wide wastes of scrub and plain,
A blazing desert in the drought,
A lake-land after rain;
To the skyline sweeps the waving grass,
Or whirls the scorching sand -
A phantom land, a mystic realm !
The Never-Never Land.
-----------------------------------------------
[ V.3 ]
Where lone Mount Desolation lies,
Mounts Dreadful and Despair –
'Tis lost beneath the rainless skies
In hopeless deserts there;
It spreads nor'-west by No-Man's Land –
Where clouds are seldom seen –
To where the cattle-stations lie
Three hundred miles between.
-------------------------------------------
[ V.4 ]
The drovers of the Great Stock Routes
The strange Gulf country know –
Where, travelling from the southern droughts,
The big lean bullocks go;
And camped by night where plains lie wide,
Like some old ocean's bed,
The watchmen in the starlight ride
Round fifteen hundred head.
----------------------------------------------
[ V.5 ]
And west of named and numbered days
The shearers walk and ride –
Jack Cornstalk and the Ne'er-do-well,
And the grey-beard side by side;
They veil their eyes from moon and stars,
And slumber on the sand –
Sad memories sleep as years go round
In Never-Never Land.
------------------------------------------------
[ V.6 ]
The College Wreck who sunk beneath,
Then rose above his shame,
Tramps west in mateship with the man
Who cannot write his name.
'Tis there where on the barren track
No last half-crust's begrudged –
Where saint and sinner, side by side,
Judge not, and are not judged.
---------------------------------------------
[ V.7 ]
The Arab to the desert sand,
The Finn to fens and snow,
The 'Flax-stick' dreams of Maoriland,
Where seasons come and go.
Whatever stars may glow or burn
O'er lands of East and West,
The wandering heart of man will turn
To one it loves the best.
---------------------------------------------
[ V.8 ]
Lest in the city I forget
True mateship, after all,
My waterbag and billy yet
Are hanging on the wall.
And I, to save my soul, again
Would tramp to sunsets grand
With sad-eyed mates across the plain
In the Never-Never Land.
=========================
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5. |
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The Things We Dare Not Tell (1901)
by Henry Lawson (1867 – 1922)
-----------------------------------------------------------
[ V.1 ]
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;
Or we nod and smile the social while, and we say we're doing well,
But we break our hearts … oh, we break our hearts ! For the things we must not tell.
(The things we must not tell)
------------------------------------------------------
[ V.2 ]
There's the old love wronged ere the new was won, there's the light of long ago;
There's the cruel lie that we suffer for, and the public must not know.
So we go through life with a ghastly mask, and we're doing fairly well,
While they break our hearts, oh, they kill our hearts! do the things we must not tell.
(The things we must not tell)
----------------------------------------------------------
[ V.3 ]
We see but pride in a selfish breast, while a heart is breaking there;
Oh, the world would be such a kindly world if all men's hearts lay bare !
We live and share the living lie, we are doing very well,
While they eat our hearts as the years go by, do the things we dare not tell.
(The things we dare not tell)
--------------------------------------------------------------
[ V.4 ]
We bow us down to a dusty shrine, or a temple in the East,
Or we stand and drink to the world-old creed, with the coffins at the feast ;
We fight it down, and we live it down, or we bear it bravely well,
But the best men die of a broken heart for the things they cannot tell.
(The things they cannot tell).
===================================
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6. |
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The Bush Girl (1901)
by Henry Lawson (1867 – 1922)
--------------------------------------------------------
[ V.1 ]
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 so glad to be gone;
You had scarcely the courage to glance back at her
By the homestead receding from view,
And you breathed with relief as you rounded the spur,
For the world was a wide world to you.
-------------------------------------
[ CHORUS ]
Grey eyes that grow sadder than sunset or rain,
Fond heart that is ever more true,
Firm faith that grows firmer for watching in vain —
She'll wait by the slip-rails for you.
(She'll wait by the slip-rails for you.
She'll wait by the slip-rails for you.)
----------------------------------------------
[ V.2 ]
Ah ! The world is a new and a wide one to you,
But the world to your sweetheart is shut,
For a chance never comes to the lonely Bush homes
Of the stockyard, the scrub, and the hut ;
And the only relief from its dullness she feels
When the ridges grow softened and dim,
And away in the dusk to the slip-rails she steals
To dream of past hours 'with him.'
-------------------------------------
[ CHORUS ]
Grey eyes that grow sadder than sunset or rain,
Fond heart that is ever more true,
Firm faith that grows firmer for watching in vain —
She'll wait by the slip-rails for you.
(She'll wait by the slip-rails for you.
She'll wait by the slip-rails for you.)
--------------------------------------------------
[ V.3 ]
Do you think, where, in place of bare fences, dry creeks,
Clear streams and green hedges are seen —
Where the girls have the lily and rose in their cheeks,
And the grass in mid-summer is green —
Do you think, now and then, now or then, in the whirl
Of the town life, while London is new,
Of the hut in the Bush and the freckled-faced girl
Who waits by the slip-rails for you ?
----------------------------------------------
[ CHORUS ]
Grey eyes that grow sadder than sunset or rain,
Fond heart that is ever more true,
Firm faith that grows firmer for watching in vain —
She'll wait by the slip-rails for you.
(She'll wait by the slip-rails for you.
She'll wait by the slip-rails for you.)
--------------------------------------------------
[ LAST CHORUS ]
Grey eyes that are sadder than sunset or rain,
Bruised heart that is ever more true,
Fond faith that is firmer for trusting in vain —
She waits by the slip-rails for you.
(She waits by the slip-rails for you.
She waits by the slip-rails for you.)
============================
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7. |
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Gypsy Too (1902) complete poem
by Henry Lawson (1867 – 1922)
--------------- [ V.1 ] : -----------------
If they missed my face in Farmers’ Arms
When the landlord lit the lamp,
They would grin and say in their country way,
‘ Oh! He’s down at the Gypsy camp ! ’
But they’d read of things in the Daily Mail
That the wild Australians do,
And I cared no day what the world might say,
For I came of the Gypsies too.
--------------- [ V.2 ] : -----------------
‘ Oh ! The Gypsy crowd are a mongrel lot,
‘ And a thieving lot and sly ! ’
But I’d dined on fowls in the far-off south,
And a mongrel lot was I.
‘ Oh ! The Gypsy crowd are a roving gang,
‘ And a sulky, silent crew ! ’
But they managed a smile and a word for me,
For I came of the Gypsies too
--------------- [ V.3 ] : -----------------
And the old queen looked in my palm one day—
And a shrewd old dame was she:
‘ My pretty young gent, you may say your say,
‘ You may laugh your laugh at me;
‘ But I’ll tell you the tale of your long, dead past !
And she told me all too true;
And she said that I’d die in a camp at last,
For I came of the Gypsies too
-------------------[ V.4 ] ------------------
And the young queen looked in my eyes that night,
In a nook where the hedge grew tall,
And the sky was swept and the stars were bright,
But her eyes had the sheen of all.
The spring was there, and the fields were fair,
And the world to my heart seemed new.
’ Twas, ‘A Romany lass to a Romany lad ! ’
But I came of the Gypsies too
------------------ [ V.5 ] -----------------
Now a Summer and Winter have gone between
And wide, wild oceans flow;
And they camp again by the sad old Thames,
Where the blackberry hedges grow.
’ Twas a roving star on a land afar
That proved to a maid untrue,
But we’ll meet when they gather the Gypsy souls,
For I came of the Gypsies too
==============================
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8. |
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The Shearer’s Dream (1902)
by Henry Lawson (1867 – 1922)
--------------------------------------------------------
[V.1]
'Oh, I dreamt I shore in a shearin' 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, and the prettiest ever seen —
They had flaxen hair, they had coal black hair — and every shade between.'
----------------------------------------------------------
[V.2]
'The shed was cooled by electric fans that was over every shoot;
The pens was of polished ma-ho-gany, and ev'rything else to suit;
The huts was fixed with spring-mattresses, and the tucker was simply grand,
And every night by the billabong we danced to a German band.'
----------------------------------------------------------
[V.3]
'Our pay was the wool on the jumbucks' backs, so we shore till all was blue —
The sheep was washed afore they was shore (and the rams was scented too);
And we all of us cried when the shed cut out, in spite of the long, hot days,
For every hour them girls waltzed in with whisky and beer on tr-a-a-ays ! '
--------------------------------------------------------
[V.4]
'There was three of them girls to every chap, and as jealous as they could be —
There was three of them girls to every chap, and six of 'em picked on me;
We was draftin' 'em out for the homeward track and sharin' 'em round like steam,
When I woke with my head in the blazin' sun to find 'twas a shearer's dream.'
==================================
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9. |
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Barta (1902)
by Henry Lawson ( 1867 – 1922 )
------------------------------------
[V.1]
Wide solemn eyes that question me,
Wee hand that pats my head —
Where only two have stroked before,
And both of them are dead.
'Ah, poo-ah Daddy mine,' she says,
With wondrous sympathy —
Ah, baby girl,
you don't know how
You break the heart in me ! (x2)
--------------------------------------------
[V.2]
Let friends and kinsfolk work their worst,
And the world say what it will,
Your baby arms go round my neck —
I'm your own Daddy still !
And you kiss me and I kiss you,
Fresh kisses frank and free —
Ah, baby girl,
you don't know how
You break the heart in me ! (x2)
-------------------------------------------
[V.3]
I dreamed when I was good that when
The snow showed in my hair,
A household angel in her teens
Would flit about my chair,
To comfort me as I grew old;
But that shall never be —
Ah, baby girl,
you don't know how
You break the heart in me ! (x2)
---------------------------------------------
[V.4]
But one shall love me while I live
And soothe my troubled head,
And never hear an unkind word
Of me when I am dead.
Her eyes shall light to hear my name
Howe'er disgraced it be —
Ah, baby girl,
you don't know how
You break the heart in me ! (x2)
--------------------------------------------
Ah, baby girl,
you don't know how
You help the heart in me !
==========================
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10. |
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Break O’Day (1904)
by Henry Lawson (1867 – 1922)
--------------------------------------------
[ V1 ]
You love me, you say, and I think you do
But I know so many who don't,
And how can I say I'll be true to you
When I know very well that I won't ?
I have journeyed long and my goal is far,
I love, but I cannot bide,
For as sure as rises the morning star,
With the break of day I'll ride.
---------------- [ CHORUS ] -------------------
I was doomed to ruin or doomed to mar
The home wherever I stay,
But I'll think of you as the morning star
And they call me Break o' Day.
-----------------------------------------
[ V2 ]
They well might have named me the Fall o' Night,
For drear is the track I mark,
But I love fair girls and I love the light,
For I and my tribe were dark.
You may love me dear, for a day and night,
You may cast your life aside;
But as sure as the morning star shines bright
With the break of day I'll ride.
----------------- [ CHORUS ] -------------------
I was doomed to ruin or doomed to mar
The home wherever I stay,
But I'll think of you as the morning star
And they call me Break o' Day.
----------------------------------------------------
[ V3 ]
There was never a lover so proud and kind,
There was never a friend so true;
But the song of my life I have left behind
In the heart of a girl like you.
There was never so deep or cruel a wrong
In the land that is far away,
There was never so bitter a broken heart
That rode at the break of day.
------------------ [ CHORUS ] -------------------
I was doomed to ruin or doomed to mar
The home wherever I stay,
But I'll think of you as the morning star
And they call me Break o' Day.
----------------------------------------------------
[ V4 ]
God bless you, dear, with your red-gold hair
And your pitying eyes of grey —
Oh ! my heart forbids that a star so fair
Should be marred by the Break o' Day.
Live on, my girl, as the girl you are,
Be a good and a true man's bride,
For as sure as beckons the evening star
With the fall o' night I'll ride.
---------------------------------------------
[ FINAL CHORUS ]
I was born to ruin or born to mar
The home wherever I light.
Oh! I wish that you were the Evening Star
And that I were the Fall o' Night.
==============================
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11. |
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Do They Think that I do not Know (1902, pub.1910)
by Henry Lawson ( 1867 – 1922 )
------------------------------------
[V.1]
They say that I never have written of love,
As a writer of songs should do ;
They say that I never could touch the strings
With a touch that is firm and true ;
They say I know nothing of women and men
In the fields where Love's roses grow,
And they say I must write with a halting pen —
Do you think that I do not know ?
--------------------------------------------
[V.2]
When the love-burst came, like an English Spring,
In the days when our hair was brown,
And the hem of her skirt was a sacred thing
And her hair was an angel's crown.
The shock when another man touched her arm,
Where the dancers sat round in a row;
The hope and despair, and the false alarm —
Do you think that I do not know?
---------------------------------------------
[V.3]
By the arbour lights on the western farms,
You remember the question put,
While you held her warm in your quivering arms
And you trembled from head to foot.
The electric shock from her finger tips,
And the murmuring answer low,
The soft, shy yielding of warm red lips —
Do you think that I do not know?
---------------------------------------------
[V.4]
She was buried at Brighton, where Gordon sleeps,
When I was a world away;
And the sad old garden its secret keeps,
For nobody knows to-day.
She left a message for me to read,
Where the wild wide oceans flow ;
Do you know how the heart of a man can bleed —
Do you think that I do not know?
--------------------------------------------
[V.5]
I stood by the grave where the dead girl lies,
When the sunlit scenes were fair,
And the white clouds high in the autumn skies,
And I answered the message there.
But the haunting words of the dead to me
Shall go wherever I go.
She lives in the Marriage that Might Have Been —
Do you think that I do not know?
----------------------------------------------
[V.6]
They sneer or scoff, and they pray or groan,
And the false friend plays his part.
Do you think that the blackguard who drinks alone
Knows aught of a pure girl's heart ?
Knows aught of the first pure love of a boy
With his warm young blood aglow,
Knows aught of the thrill of the world-old joy —
Do you think that I do not know?
-----------------------------------------------
[V.7]
They say that I never have written of love,
They say that my heart is such
That finer feelings are far above ;
But a writer may know too much.
There are darkest depths in the brightest nights,
When the clustering stars hang low ;
There are things it would break his strong heart to write —
Do you think that I do not know?
( Do they think that I do not know? )
========================
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12. |
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The Route March (1915)
by Henry Lawson (1867 – 1922)
-----------------------------------
[V.1]
Did you hear the children singing, Oh my brothers ? Oh my sisters ?
Did you hear the children singing as our troops went marching past ?
In the sunshine and the rain,
As they'll never sing again —
Hear the little school-girls singing as our troops went swinging past ?
------------------------------------------
[V.2]
Did you hear the children singing, Oh my brothers ? Oh my sisters ?
Did you hear the children singing for the first man and the last ?
As they marched away and vanished,
To a tune we thought was banished —
Did you hear the children singing for the future and the past ?
-----------------------------------------
[V.3]
Shall you hear the children singing, Oh my brothers ? Oh my sisters ?
Shall you hear the children singing in the sunshine or the rain ?
There'll be sobs beneath the ringing
Of the cheers, and 'neath the singing
There'll be tears of orphan children when Our Boys come back again !
=========================
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13. |
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Scots of the Riverina (1917)
By Henry Lawson (1867 -1922)
----------------------------------------
[ V.1 ]
The boy cleared out to the city
from his home at harvest time —
They were Scots of the Riverina,
and to run from home was a crime.
The old man burned his letters,
the first and last he burned,
And he scratched his name from the Bible
when the old wife's back was turned.
-------------------------------------
[ V.2 ]
A year went past and another.
There were calls from the firing-line;
They heard the boy had enlisted,
but the old man made no sign.
His name must never be mentioned
on the farm by Gundagai —
They were Scots of the Riverina
with ever the kirk hard by.
-----------------------------------
[ V.3 ]
The boy came home on his "final",
and the township's bonfire burned.
His mother's arms were about him;
but the old man's back was turned.
The daughters begged for pardon
till the old man raised his hand —
A Scot of the Riverina
who was hard to understand.
-----------------------------------
[ V.4 ]
The boy was killed in Flanders,
where the best and bravest die.
There were tears at the Grahame homestead
and grief in Gundagai;
But the old man ploughed at daybreak
and the old man ploughed till the mirk —
There were furrows of pain in the orchard
while his housefolk went to the kirk.
--------------------------------------
[ V.5 ]
The hurricane lamp in the rafters
dimly and dimly burned;
And the old man died at the table
when the old wife's back was turned.
Face down on his bare arms folded
he sank with his wild grey hair
Outspread o'er the open Bible
and a name re-written there.
===========================
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14. |
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On The Night Train (1922)
by Henry Lawson (1867 – 1922)
-----------------------------------------------------------
[ V.1 ]
Have you seen the bush by moonlight, from the train, go running by ?
Blackened log and stump and sapling, ghostly trees all dead and dry ;
Here a patch of glassy water; there a glimpse of mystic sky ?
Have you heard the still voice calling — yet so warm, and yet so cold :
" I'm the Mother-Bush that bore you ! Come to me when you are old " ?
------------------------------------------------------------
[ V.2 ]
Did you see the Bush below you sweeping darkly to the Range,
All unchanged and all unchanging, yet so very old and strange !
While you thought in softened anger of the things that did estrange ?
( Did you hear the Bush a-calling, when your heart was young and bold :
" I'm the Mother-bush that nursed you ; Come to me when you are old " ? )
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[ V.3 ]
In the cutting or the tunnel, out of sight of stock or shed,
Did you hear the grey Bush calling from the pine-ridge overhead :
" You have seen the seas and cities — all is cold to you, or dead —
All seems done and all seems told, but the grey-light turns to gold !
I'm the Mother-Bush that loves you — come to me now you are old " ?
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