“ Beaut ! ” Words About LIFE in AUSTRALIA.
They are about, and not in sequence: Our Country—Horse use—Sheep shearing—Cattle droving—Bullock trains-- Camel trains—Bikes—Trams-- Trains-
This is NOT!! meant to be an exhaustive list. Just a selection, at my whim.
Covering perhaps 100 years between 1853 and !950, about 100 years.
Remember the First Fleet only arrived about 64 years before 1853, and the First few Fleets were to transport ‘Convicts” from England and get rid of them a long way away. America had won its independence and could not be used anymore to get rid of “Convicts”
However, I think you might like the “tiny “selections. They may get you to explore a lot more Australian Poets and Writers.
By the way when you see this ////////////////////////// it means there is more to read if you wish,
Anonymous: “Botany Bay” a Song
insert a pic prisoners on sailing ship
Verse:
Farewell to old England forever, Chorus:
We’re all bound for Botany Bay Singing tooral-i-oorol-addity
Farewell to my rum-culls as well. Singing-tooral-i-ooral-i-ay
Farewell to the well known Old Bailey Singing-tooral-i-ooral-i-addity
Where I used to cut such a swell We’re all bound for Botany Bay !
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Adam Lindsey Gordon: “An Exile’s farewell” a Poem
The ocean heaves around us still
I lean, and watch the sun
Still breaks against our prow;
I shed no tears at quitting home,
Nor will I shed them now !
Against the bulwarks on the poop
I lean, and watch the sun
Behind the red horizon stoop-
His race is nearly run.
Those waves will never quench his light,
O’er which they seem to close,
To-morrow he will rise as bright
As he this morning rose.
How brightly gleams the orb of day
Across the trackless sea !
How lightly dance the waves that play
Like dolphins in our lee !
The restless waters seem to say,
In smothered tones to me,
How many thousand miles away
My native land must be !
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Henry Thomas Kendall “Song of the Cattle Hunters” a Poem. 
“While the morning light beams on the fern-matted streams,
And the water-pools flash in its glow,
Down the ridges we fly, with a loud ringing cry --
Down the ridges and gullies we go!
And the cattle we hunt -- they are racing in front,
With a roar like the thunder of waves,
As the beat and the beat of our swift horses' feet
Start the echoes away from their caves!
As the beat and the beat
Of our swift horses' feet
Start the echoes away from their caves!
Like a wintry shore that the waters ride o'er,
All the lowlands are filling with sound;
For swiftly we gain where the herds on the plain,
Like a tempest, are tearing the ground!
And we'll follow them hard to the rails of the yard,
O'er the gulches and mountain-tops grey,
Where the beat and the beat of our swift horses' feet
Will die with the echoes away!
Where the beat and the beat
Of our swift horses' feet
Will die with the echoes away!
Dorothea Mackellar.- 1885 to 1968 
“My Country.”a Poem
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I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror
The wide brown land for me!
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inser a pic bilyi boiling
Anonymous: “The Billy of Tea” a Poem
And at night when I camp, if the day has been warm,
I give each of the horses their tucker of corn,
From the two in the pole to the one in the lead,
And the billy for each holds a comfortable feed;
Then the fire I start and water I get,
And the corn beef and damper in order I set,
But I don’t touch the grub, though so hungry I be,
I will wait till it’s ready—the Billy of Tea.
A.B.”Banjo Paterson” “Waltzing Matilda ” a Poem 
insert a pic waltzing matilda
Verse:
Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong,
Under the shade of a Coolibah tree,
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boil,
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.
Chorus.
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me,
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boil
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.
Verse:
Down came a jumbuck to drink at that billabong
Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him with glee,
And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker bag
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.
Chorus.
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me,
And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker bag
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.
Verse:
Up rode the squatter mounted on his thorough-bred
Down came the troopers One Two Three
Whose that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker bag
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.
Chorus.
Waltzing Matilda Waltzing Matilda
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me
Whose that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker-bag
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.
Banjo Paterson “The Man from Snowy River” a Poem
*Newspaper clipping to come*
There was movement at the Station,
For the word had got around,
That the colt from old ‘Regret’ had got away
And joined the wild bush horses-he was worth a thousand pounds,
So all the cracks had gathered to the fray
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And Clancy of the Overflow came down to lend a hand,
No better horseman held the reins,
For never horse could throw him while the saddle girths would stand.
He learnt to ride while droving on the plains.
And one was there, a stripling on a small and weedy beast,
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He was hard and tough and wiry-just the sort that won’t say die
There was courage in his quick impatient tread;
And he bore the badge of gameness in his bright and fiery eye
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And the old man said, ”that horse will never do,
For a long and tiring gallop-Lad, you had better stop away,
These hills are far too rough for such as you.”
So he waited, sad and wistful-only Clancy stood his friend,
‘I think we ought to let him come,” he said;
‘I warrant he’ll be with us when he’s wanted at the end,
For both his horse and he are mountain bred.
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When they reached the mountains summit, even Clancy took a pull-
It might well make the boldest hold their breath;
The wild hop scrub grew thickly, and the hidden ground was full
Of wombat holes and any slip was death.
But the man from Snowy River let the pony have his head,
And he swung his stockwhip round and gave a cheer,
And he raced him down the mountain like a torrent down its bed,
While the others stood and watched in very fear.
He sent the flint stones flying, but the pony kept its feet,
He cleared the fallen timber in his stride,
And the man from Snowy River never shifted in his seat-
It was grand to see that mountain horseman ride.
