Henry Lawson Ballad Poems

Across the stony ridges,
Across the rolling plain,
Young Harry Dale, the drover,
...

Across the stony ridges,
Across the rolling plain,
Young Harry Dale, the drover,
Comes riding home again.
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A black-sheep, from England, who worked on the run –
Riding where the stockmen ride –
He sat by the hut when the day’s work was done –
Lone huts where the black sheep bide.
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Ye children of the Land of Gold,
I sing a song to you,
And if the jokes are somewhat old,
The main idea is new.
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A Rouseabout of rouseabouts, from any land—or none—
I bear a nick-name of the bush, and I’m—a woman’s son;
I came from where I camp’d last night, and, at the day-dawn glow,
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A son of elder sons I am,
Whose boyhood days were cramped and scant,
Through ages of domestic sham
And family lies and family cant.
...