We wrote and sang of a bush we never Had known in youth in the Western land; Of the dear old homes by the shining river, The deep, clear creeks and the hills so grand....
We wrote and sang of a bush we never Had known in youth in the Western land; Of the dear old homes by the shining river, The deep, clear creeks and the hills so grand....
Over there, above the jetty, stands the mansion of the Vardens, With a tennis ground and terrace, and a flagstaff in the gardens: They are gentlemen and ladies, they've been 'toffs' for generations,...
If you fancy that your people came of better stock than mine, If you hint of higher breeding by a word or by a sign, If you're proud because of fortune or the clever things you do,...
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?...
Oh, this is a song of the old lights, that came to my heart like a hymn; And this is a song for the old lights, the lights that we thought grew dim, That came to my heart to comfort me, and I pass it along to you;...
By right of birth in southern land I send my warning forth. I see my country ruined by the wrongs that damned the North. And shall I stand with fireless eyes and still and silent mouth...
As it was in the beginning, so we'll find it in the end, For a lover, or a brother, or a sweetheart, or a friend; As it was in the beginning, so we'll find it by-and-bye,...
Oh, do you hear the argument, far up above the skies? The voice of old Saint Peter, in expostulation rise? Growing shrill, and ever shriller, at the thing that's being done;...
Sing the strong, proud song of Labour, Toss the ringing music high; Liberty's a nearer neighbour Than she was in days gone by. Workmen's weary wives and daughters Sing the songs of liberty;...
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: Ceaselessly watching to save you, stranger from foreign lands,...
Sons of the South, awake! arise! Sons of the South, and do. Banish from under your bonny skies Those old-world errors and wrongs and lies. Making a hell in a Paradise That belongs to your sons and you....
He was bare we don't want to be rude (His condition was owing to drink) They say his condition was nood, Which amounts to the same thing, we think (We mean his condition, we think,...
Fear ye not the stormy future, for the Battle Hymn is strong, And the armies of Australia shall not march without a song; The glorious words and music of Australia's song shall come...
'Twas in a tug-of-war where I, the guvnor's hope and pride, Stepped proudly on the platform as the ringer on my side; Old dad was in his glory there, it gave the old man joy...
While you use your best endeavour to immortalise in verse The gambling and the drink which are your country's greatest curse, While you glorify the bully and take the spieler's part,...
Ah, well! but the case seems hopeless, and the pen might write in vain; The people gabble of old things over and over again. For the sake of the sleek importer we slave with the pick and the shears,...
We must suffer, husband and father, we must suffer, daughter and son, For the wrong we have taken part in and the wrong that we have seen done. Let the bride of frivolous fashion, and of ease, be ashamed and dumb,...
On western plain and eastern hill Where once my fancy ranged, The station hands are riding still And they are little changed. But I have lost in London gloom The glory of the day,...
It is New Year's Day and I rise to state that here on the Sydney side The Bards have commenced to fill out of late and they're showing their binjies with pride...