West of Dubbo the west begins The land of leisure and hope and trust, Where the black man stalks with his dogs and gins And Nature visits the settlers' sins With the Bogan shower, that is mostly dust. ...
It was while we held our races, Hurdles, sprints and steplechases, Up in Dandaloo, That a crowd of Sydney stealers, Jockeys, pugilists and spielers Brought some horses, real heelers,...
"Will you love me, sweet, when my hair is grey And my cheeks shall have lost their hue? When the charms of youth shall have passed away Will your love as of old prove true? ...
The sun strikes down with a blinding glare; The skies are blue and the plains are wide, The saltbush plains that are burnt and bare By Walgett out on the Barwon side, The Barwon River that wanders down...
Here lies a bloke who's just gone West, A Number One Australian; He took his gun and did his best To mitigate the alien. So long as he could get to work He needed no sagacity;...
And wherefore have they come, this warlike band, That o'er the ocean many a weary day Have tossed; and now beside Suakim's Bay, With faces stern and resolute, do stand,...
Oh, Mr Gilhooley he turned up his toes, As most of you know, soon or late; And Jones was a lawyer, as everyone knows, So they took him to Gilhooley's Estate.
'Twas the dingo pup to his dam that said, "It's time I worked for my daily bread. Out in the world I intend to go, And you'd be surprised at the things I know. ...
There's a happy little valley on the Eumerella shore, Where I've lingered many happy hours away, On my little free selection I have acres by the score, Where I unyoke the bullocks from the dray.
By the winding Wollondilly where the weeping willows weep, And the shepherd, with his billy, half awake and half asleed, Folds his fleecy flocks that linger homewards in the setting sun...
O west of all that a man holds dear, on the edge of the Kingdom Come, Where carriage is far too high for beer, and the pubs keep only rum, On the sunburnt ways of the Outer Back, on the plains of the darkening scrub,...
Our fathers, brave men were and strong, And whiskey was their daily liquor; They used to move the world along In better style than now, and quicker. Elections then were sport, you bet!...
With eyes that searched in the dark, Peering along the line, Stood the grim Scotsman, Hector Clark, Driver of "Forty-nine". And the veldt-fire flamed on the hills ahead, Like a blood-red beacon sign....