(Air: “Bow, Wow, Wow.”) Now, shut your mouths, you loafers all,You vex me with your twaddle,You own a nag or big or small,A bridle and a saddle;I you advise at once be wiseAnd waste no time in talking,Procure some bags of damaged ragsAnd make your fortune hawking. Chorus Hawk, hawk, hawk.Our bread to win, we’ll […]

(Air: “Wearing of the Green.”) When the merchant lies down, he can scarce go to sleepFor thinking of his merchandise upon the fatal deep;His ships may be cast away or taken in a war,So him alone we’ll envy not, who true bushmen are. Chorus: Who true bushmen are,Who true bushmen are,So him alone we’ll envy […]

(Air: “Ben Bolt.”) Oh! don’t you remember Black Alice, Sam Holt-Black Alice, so dusky and dark,The Warrego gin, with the straw through her nose,And teeth like a Moreton Bay shark. The terrible sheepwash tobacco she smokedIn the gunyah down there by the lake,And the grubs that she roasted, and the lizards she stewed,And the damper […]

(Air: “Little Sally Waters.”) The night is dark and stormy, and the sky is clouded o’er;Our horses we will mount and ride away,To watch the squatters’ cattle through the darkness of the night,And we’ll keep them on the camp till break of day. Chorus For we’re going, going, going to Gunnedah so far,And we’ll soon […]

(Air: “A wet sheet and a flowing sea.”) A bright sun and a loosened rein,A whip whose pealing soundRings forth amid the forest treesAs merrily forth we bound-As merrily forth we bound, my boys,And, by the dawn’s pale light,Speed fearless on our horses trueFrom morn till starry night. “Oh! for a tame and quiet herd,”I […]

Kind friends, pray give attentionTo this, my little song.Some rum things I will mention,And I’ll not detain you long.Up and down this countryI travel, don’t you see,I’m a swagman on the wallaby,Oh! don’t you pity me.I’m a swagman on the wallaby,Oh! don’t you pity me. At first I started shearing,And I bought a pair of […]

Come, all you jolly natives, and I’ll relate to youSome of my observations-adventures, too, a few.I’ve travelled about the country for miles, full many a score,And oft-times would have hungered, but for the cheek I bore. I’ve coasted on the Barwon-low down the Darling, too,I’ve been on the Murrumbidgee, and out on the Paroo;I’ve been […]

My name is old Jack Palmer,I’m a man of olden days,And so I wish to sing a songTo you of olden praise.To tell of merry friends of oldWhen we were gay and young;How we sat and sang togetherRound the Old Keg of Rum. Chorus Oh! the Old Keg of Rum! the Old Keg of Rum!How […]

The sun peers o’er you wooded ridge and thro’ the forest dense,Its golden edge o’er the mountain ledge looks down on the stockyard fence,Looks down, looks down, looks down on the stockyard fence;And dark creeks rush thro’ the tangled brush, when their shuddering shadows throngUntil they chime in the rude rough rhyme of the wild […]

A club there is established here, whose name they say is LegionFrom Melbourne to the Billabong, they’re known in every region.They do not like the cockatoos, but mostly stick to stations,Where they keep themselves from starving by cadging shepherds’ rations. The rules and regulations, they’re not difficult of learning,They are to live upon the cash […]

(Air: “So Early in the Morning.”) The boss last night in the hut did say-“We start to muster at break of day;So be up first thing, and don’t be slow;Saddle your horses and off you go.” Chorus So early in the morning, so early in the morning,So early in the morning, before the break of […]

Be ye stockmen or no, to my story give ear.Alas! for poor Jack, no more shall we hearThe crack of his stockwhip, his steed’s lively trot,His clear “Go ahead, boys,” his jingling quart pot. Chorus For we laid him where wattles their sweet fragrance shed,And the tall gum trees shadow the stockman’s last bed. Whilst […]

(Air: “A fine old English gentleman.”) I’ll sing to you a fine new song, made by my blessed mate,Of a fine Australian squatter who had a fine estate,Who swore by right pre-emptive at a sanguinary rateThat by his rams, his ewes, his lambs, Australia was made great-Like a fine Australian squatter, one of the olden […]

(Air: “The Mistletoe Bough.”) The saddle was hung on the stockyard rail,And the poor old horse stood whisking his tail,For there never was seen such a regular screwAs Wallabi Joe, of Bunnagaroo;Whilst the shearers all said, as they say, of course,That Wallabi Joe’s a fine lump of a horse;But the stockmen said, as they laughed […]

[The subjoined is one of the “Songs of the Squatters,” written by the Hon. Robert Lowe (afterwards Viscount Sherbrooke), while resident in New South Wales.] The Commissioner bet me a pony-I won;So he cut off exactly two-thirds of my run;For he said I was making a fortune too fast,And profit gained slower the longer would […]

(Air: “Belle Mahone.”) At River Bend, in New South Wales,All alone among the whales,Busting up some post and rails,Sweet Belle Mahone.In the blazing sun we stand,Cabbage-tree hat, black velvet band,Moleskins stiff with sweat and sand,Sweet Belle Mahone. Chorus: Sweet Belle Mahone, etc. In the burning sand we pine,No one asks us to have a wine,‘Tis […]

Lonely and sadly one night in NovemberI laid down my weary head in search of reposeOn my wallet of straw, which I long shall remember,Tired and weary I fell into a doze.Tired from working hardDown in the labour yard,Night brought relief to my sad, aching brain.Locked in my prison cell,Surely an earthly hell,I fell asleep […]

Let Romanists all at the Confessional kneel,Let the Jew with disgust turn from it,Let the mighty Crown Prelate in Church pander zeal,Let the Mussulman worship Mahomet. From all these I differ-truly wise is my plan,With my doctrine, perhaps, you’ll agree,To be upright and downright and act like a man,That’s the religion for me. I will […]

You often have been told of regiments brave and bold,But we are the bravest in the land;We’re called the Tag-rag Band, and we rally in Queensland,We are members of the Wallaby Brigade. Chorus Tramp, tramp, tramp across the borders,The swagmen are rolling up, I see.When the shearing’s at an end we’ll go fishing in a […]

(Air: “The Little Old Log Cabin in the Lane.”) I’m a broken-down old squatter, my cash it is all gone,Of troubles and bad seasons I complain;My cattle are all mortgaged, of horses I have none,And I’ve lost that little freehold on the plain. Chorus The stockyard’s broken down, and the woolshed’stumbling in;I’ve written to the […]