Banjo Paterson

(17 February 1864 – 5 February 1941 / New South Wales)

Banjo Paterson Poems

81. The Rhyme Of The O'sullivan 1/1/2004
82. Policeman G. 1/1/2004
83. Under The Shadow Of Kiley's Hill 1/1/2004
84. The Rule Of The A.J.C. 1/1/2004
85. Morgan's Dog 1/1/2004
86. Gone Down 1/1/2004
87. Those Names 1/1/2004
88. Shearing With A Hoe 1/1/2004
89. The Sausage Candidate-A Tale Of The Elections 1/1/2004
90. Sydney Cup 1899 1/1/2004
91. The Dying Stockman 9/11/2012
92. The Swagman's Rest 1/1/2004
93. The Amateur Rider 1/1/2004
94. The Quest Eternal 1/1/2004
95. In The Stable 1/1/2004
96. That Half-Crown Sweep 1/1/2004
97. The All Right Un 1/1/2004
98. Jim Carew 1/1/2004
99. The Premier And The Socialist 1/1/2004
100. The Protest 1/1/2004
101. The Gundaroo Bullock 1/1/2004
102. Mulligan's Mare 1/1/2004
103. The Ballad Of The Calliope 1/1/2004
104. How M'Ginnis Went Missing 1/1/2004
105. The Ballad Of Cockatoo Dock 1/1/2004
106. The Deficit Demon 1/1/2004
107. Wisdom Of Hafiz: The Philosopher Takes To Racing 1/1/2004
108. Tar And Feathers 1/1/2004
109. How The Favourite Beat Us 1/1/2004
110. The Scorcher And The Howling Swell 1/1/2004
111. The Corner Man 1/1/2004
112. The Incantation 1/1/2004
113. There's Another Blessed Horse Fell Down 1/1/2004
114. Jock 1/1/2004
115. The Road To Old Man's Town 1/1/2004
116. The Dauntless Three 1/1/2004
117. The Ballad Of The Carpet Bag 1/1/2004
118. Tom Collins 1/1/2004
119. The Mylora Elopement 1/1/2004
120. T.Y.S.O.N. 1/1/2004

Comments about Banjo Paterson

  • nick crompton (5/6/2018 10:46:00 PM)

    you know its nick crompton and my collar stay poppin
    yes i can rap and no i'm not from compton
    england is my city and if it weren't for team 10 the us would be
    i'll pass it to chance cuz you know he stay litty

    16 person liked.
    9 person did not like.
  • ThatKidEatingAPickledPickle (4/9/2018 8:18:00 PM)

    get doubled pickled fam

    12 person liked.
    10 person did not like.
  • loony face (4/5/2018 1:44:00 AM)

    (͡o ͜ʖ ͡o) ahahahhaha

    15 person liked.
    9 person did not like.
  • (?° ?? ?°) (4/5/2018 1:43:00 AM)

    lenny face

    wait wrong way around

    13 person liked.
    8 person did not like.
  • Banjo Paterson (4/5/2018 1:37:00 AM)

    THIS IS ALL FAKE FAKE
















































    p.s hi lol






















    p.p.s jk

    17 person liked.
    9 person did not like.
  • LOL IDK ANYMORE IS MY NAME? ? ? IDK (4/5/2018 1:30:00 AM)

    IS ANYONE ACCTUALLY HERE TO RESEARCH LOLLLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLPOLOLO

    4 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • thatkidinthecorner85 (4/5/2018 1:26:00 AM)

    this guy is liek rlly gud t duh poome lol idk dvbleh fvhegvajxwjhevfvjashrgb

    5 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • DickButt (3/29/2018 3:00:00 AM)

    https: //www.google.com.au/search? q=dickbutt+png&rlz=1C1GKLB_en&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwic1_mDiJHaAhVHgbwKHcIqBQ4Q_AUICigB&biw=1920&bih=949 pic of dickbutts

    4 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • skadaddle skadoodle (3/26/2018 8:58:00 PM)

    ummmmmmmmmmmmm no im not saying it but i will skadaddle skadoodle your d

    4 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • dickbutt (3/26/2018 8:58:00 PM)

    skadaddle skadoodle your is now a noodle

    5 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
Best Poem of Banjo Paterson

A Bushman's Song

I’M travellin’ down the Castlereagh, and I’m a station hand,
I’m handy with the ropin’ pole, I’m handy with the brand,
And I can ride a rowdy colt, or swing the axe all day,
But there’s no demand for a station-hand along the Castlereagh. +

So it’s shift, boys, shift, for there isn’t the slightest doubt
That we’ve got to make a shift to the stations further out,
With the pack-horse runnin’ after, for he follows like a dog,
We must strike across the country at the old jig-jog.

This old black horse I’m riding—if you’ll notice what’s his brand,
He wears ...

Read the full of A Bushman's Song

The Last Parade

With never a sound of trumpet,
With never a flag displayed,
The last of the old campaigners
Lined up for the last parade.

Weary they were and battered,
Shoeless, and knocked about;
From under their ragged forelocks
Their hungry eyes looked out.