The squatter saw his pastures wide Decrease, as one by one The farmers moving to the west Selected on his run; Selectors took the water up And all the black soil round; The best grass-land the squatter had Was spoilt by Ross’s Ground. Now many schemes to shift old Ross Had racked the squatter’s brains, […]
The Deserted Camp by Jules Raeside
16/05/2020 By Leave a Comment
The Deserted Camp by Jules Raeside 1929 Deserted now- no more you stir’d By those in quest of gold Now you’re but a memory blurr’d Of what you were of old Yet though the camp of silence sleeps Except for songs of birds There’s language in your silent heaps More eloquent than words. You speak […]
The Old Prospector – a verse
25/04/2020 By Leave a Comment
Coolgardie Miner 16 June 1938, page 8 The Old Prospector: He fossicks around from year to year Away in the country’s outback, A little bit there, a little bit here With a sample or two in his pack. Away from the tracks of his fellows, The places that other men know, To the land of […]
The Bulletin Hotel – by Henry Lawson
18/04/2020 By Leave a Comment
I was drifting in the drizzle past the Cecil in the Strand Which, I’m told is very tony – and its front looks very grand And somehow fell a-thinking of a pub I know so well Of a place in West Australia called The Bulletin Hotel Just a little six-room shanty built of corrugated tin […]
The Swearful Dryblower – a verse
11/04/2020 By Leave a Comment
I am a digger at Mulgabbie and I’d like to rise and say Dryblowing is a swearful game to most diggers anyway. You work for days without a color, then have a lengthy swear that takes two solid windy days to cleanse the atmosphere. If an angel down from heaven had to dryblow for a […]
