None ever knew his name, Honoured, or one of shame, Highborn or lowly; Only upon that tree Two letters, J and C, Carved by him, mark where he Lay dying slowly.
Tis a song of the Never Never land Set to the tune of a scorching gale On the sandhills red, When the grasses dead Loudly rustle, and bow the head To the breath of its dusty hail: ...
Now the squatters and the 'cockies,' Shearers, trainers and their jockeys Had gathered them together for a meeting on the flat; They had mustered all their forces, Owners brought their fastest horses,...
I love the ancient boundary-fence, That mouldering chock-and-log. When I go ride the boundary I let the old horse jog And take his pleasure in and out Where the sandalwood grows dense,...
On Nungar the mists of the morning hung low, The beetle-browed hills brooded silent and black, Not yet warmed to life by the sun's loving glow, As through the tall tussocks rode young Charlie Mac....
Our Skeeta was married, our Skeeta! the tomboy and pet of the place, No more as a maiden we'd greet her, no more would her pert little face Light up the chill gloom of the parlour; no more would her deft little hands...
Dozens of damp little curls; One little short upper lip; Two rows of teeth like diminutive pearls; Eyes clear and grey as the creek where it swirls Over the ledges that's Tip! With a skip!...
Long time beside the squatter's gate A great grey Box-Tree, early, late, Or shine or rain, in silence there Had stood and watched the seasons fare: Had seen the wind upon the plain...
Scrape the bottom of the hole: gather up the stuff, Fossick in the crannies, lest you leave a grain behind, Just another shovelful and that'll be enough, Now we'll take it to the bank and see what we can find,...
There's a nice little hatpeg that hangs on the wall That long from its owner has parted, And though he is wandering far beyond call Like him it is always true hearted. ...
Hear the loud swell of it, mighty pell mell of it, Thousands of voices all blent into one: See 'hell for leather' now trooping together, now Down the long slope of the range at a run,...
Out on the wastes of the Never Never That's where the dead men lie! There where the heat-waves dance forever That's where the dead men lie! That's where the Earth's loved sons are keeping...