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Anonymous: “Five Miles from Gundagai” a Poem

I’m used to punchin’ bullock teams

Across the hills and plains,

I’ve teamed outback theses forty years

In blazin’droughts and rains,

I’ve lived a heap of troubles down

Without a bloomin’lie.

But I can’t forget what happened to me

Five miles from Gundagai.

‘Twas getting dark, the team got bogged,

The axle snapped in two;

I lost me matches and me pipe,

So what was I to do?

The rain came on, ‘twas bitter cold,

And hungry too was I.

And the dog sat on the tucker box

Five miles from Gundagai.

Some blokes I know has stacks of luck,

No matter ‘ow they fall,

But there was I, Lord love a duck!

No blasted luck at all.

I couldn’t make a pot of tea,

Nor get me trousers dry,

And the dog sat on the tucker box

Five miles from Gundagai.

I can forgive the blinkin team

I can forgive the rain,

I can forgive the dark and cold,

And go through it again,

I can forgive me rotten luck,

But hang me till I die,

I can’t forgive that blasted dog

Five miles from Gundagai.

Belongs to Henry Lawson part

“ Andy’s Return.” a Poem

With pannikins all rusty,

And billy burnt and black,

And clothes all torn and dusty,

That scarcely hide his back;

With sun-cracked saddle leather,

And knotted greenhide rein,

He’s looking old and jaded,

But he is hearty yet.

With eyes sunk in their sockets-

But merry as of yore; And face burnt brown with weather,

Our Andy’s home again

His unkept hair is faded

With sleeping in the wet,

With big cheques in his pockets,

Our Andy’s home once more.

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“ A Bush Girl.” a Poem

She’s milking in the rain and dark,

As did her Mother in the past,

The wretched shed of poles and bark,

Rent by the wind is leaking fast.

She sees the ‘home roof’ black and low,

Where, balefully, the hut-fire gleams-

And, like her Mother, long ago,

She has her dreams; she has her dreams.

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“The Roaring Days” a Poem.

The night too quickly passes
And we are growing old,
So let us fill our glasses
And toast the Days of Gold;
When finds of wondrous treasure
Set all the South ablaze,
And you and I were faithful mates
All through the roaring days.

Harry “The Breaker”Harbord Morant “When Light is as Darkness”. A Poem

Breaker Morant - Third from the left, white horse

The night's a trifle chilly, and the stars are very bright,
A heavy dew is falling, but the fly is rigged aright;
You may rest your bones till morning, then if you chance to wake,
Give me a call about the time that daylight starts to break.
We may not camp to-morrow, for we've many a mile to go,
Ere we turn our horses' heads round to make tracks for down below.
There's many a water-course to cross, and many a black-soil plain,
And many a mile of mulga ridge ere we get back again.
That time five moons shall wax and wane we'll finish up the work,
Have the bullocks o'er the border and truck 'em down from Bourke,
And when they're sold at Homebush, and the agents settle up,
Sing hey! a spell in Sydney town and Melbourne for the "Cup".