This is a favorite of mine, especially the first two lines, to me, they are evocative of the spirit of the Goldfields:
Oh! Who could paint a Goldfields and paint the picture right?
As old adventurers saw it in early morning light.
The yellow mounds of mullock with spots of red and white
The scattered quartz that glistens like diamonds in the light
Hear the fall of timber from distant flats and fells
The pealing of the anvils as clear as clear as little bells
The rattle of the cradle, the clack of windlass poles,
The flutter of the crimson flags above the golden holes
Ah! Then their hearts were bolder and if Dame Fortune frowned,
Their swag they’d lightly shoulder and tramp to other grounds
Oh! They were lion-hearted, who gave our country birth
Stout sons of Stoutest Fathers born from all the lands on earth.
Those Golden Days have vanished, and altered as the scene,
The diggings are deserted now, the camping grounds are green.
By Henry Lawson
Moya Sharp
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Dear Moya, I’ve been reading your delightful stories for some time now and thought I should write to thank you. My initial interest came from tracking the Tobias family tree. Which I understand included some connections from near you. Especially with the Sons of Gwalia mine.
I live in Castlemaine between Bendigo and Ballarat and love the local gold history stories. I hope to visit the WA goldfields someday. In the meantime I can let my imagination roam while I read your stories.
Thank you.
Steve Tobias