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Song of the Artesian Water

Now the stock have started dying, for the Lord has sent a drought;

But we're sick of prayers and Providence — we're going to do without;

With the derricks up above us and the solid earth below,

We are waiting at the lever for the word to let her go.

Sinking down, deeper down,

Oh, we'll sink it deeper down:

As the drill is plugging downward at a thousand feet of level,

If the Lord won't send us water, oh, we'll get it from the devil;

by A B Banjo Paterson

Song of the Future

'Tis strange that in a land so strong

So strong and bold in mighty youth,

We have no poet's voice of truth

To sing for us a wondrous song.

Our chiefest singer yet has sung

In wild, sweet notes a passing strain,

All carelessly and sadly flung

To that dull world he thought so vain.

by A B Banjo Paterson

A Dream of the Melbourne Cup

Bring me a quart of colonial beer

And some doughy damper to make good cheer,

I must make a heavy dinner;

Heavily dine and heavily sup,

Of indigestible things fill up,

Next month they run the Melbourne Cup,

And I have to dream the winner.

Stoke it in, boys! the half-cooked ham,

by A B Banjo Paterson

Opening of the Railway Line

The opening of the railway line…

The Governor and all,

With flags and banners down the street,

A banquet and a ball,

Hark to them at the station now !

They're raising cheer on cheer,

The man who brought the railway through,

Our friend the engineer.

by A B Banjo Paterson

'Ave Ceasar'

Long ago the Gladiators,

When the call to combat came,

Marching past the massed spectators,

Hailed the Emp'ror with acclaim!

Voices ringing with the fury

Of the strife so soon to be,

Cried,

"O Caesar, moriturisalutamus te!"

by A B Banjo Paterson

The Daylight is Dying

The daylight is dying

Away in the west,

The wild birds are flying

In silence to rest;

In leafage and frondage

Where shadows are deep,

They pass to its bondage—

The kingdom of sleep.

by A B Banjo Paterson

Weary Will

The strongest creature for his size

But least equipped for combat

That dwells beneath Australian skies

Is Weary Will the Wombat.

He digs his homestead underground,

He's neither shrewd nor clever;

For kangaroos can leap and bound

But wombats dig forever.

by A B Banjo Paterson

Shearing at Castlereagh

The bell is set a-ringing, and the engine gives a toot,

There's five-and-thirty shearers here a-shearing for the loot,

So stir yourselves, you penners-up, and shove the sheep along —

The musterers are fetching them a hundred thousand strong —

And make your collie dogs speak up; what would the buyers say

In London if the wool was late this year from Castlereagh?

The man that "rung" the Tubbo shed is not the ringer here,

That stripling from the Cooma-side can teach him how to shear.

by A B Banjo Paterson

Song of the Wheat

We have sung the song of the droving days,

Of the march of the travelling sheep;

By silent stages and lonely ways

Thin, white battalions creep.

But the man who now by the land would thrive

Must his spurs to a plough-share beat.

Is there ever a man in the world alive

To sing the song of the Wheat!

by A B Banjo Paterson

An Emu Hunt

West of Dubbo the west begins

The land of leisure and hope and trust,

Where the black man stalks with his dogs and gins

And Nature visits the settlers' sins

With the Bogan shower, that is mostly dust.

When the roley-poley's roots dry out

With the fierce hot winds and the want of rain,

They come uprooted and bound about

by A B Banjo Paterson

Rio Grande's Last Race

Now this was what Macpherson told

While waiting in the stand;

A reckless rider, over-bold,

The only man with hands to hold

The rushing Rio Grande.

He said, `This day I bid good-bye

To bit and bridle rein,

To ditches deep and fences high,

by A B Banjo Paterson

Frogs In Chorus

The chorus frogs in the big lagoon

Would sing their songs to the silvery moon.

Tenor singers were out of place,

For every frog was a double bass.

But never a human chorus yet

Could beat the accurate time they set.

The solo singer began the joke;

He sang, "As long as I live I'll croak,

by A B Banjo Paterson