Henry Lawson Poems
|482.||Freedom On The Wallaby||1/1/2004|
|484.||A Song Of Brave Men||1/1/2004|
|487.||At The Beating Of A Drum||1/1/2004|
|488.||The City Bushman||12/31/2002|
|493.||A Song Of The Republic||1/1/2004|
|494.||A Prouder Man Than You||12/31/2002|
|495.||From The Bush||1/1/2004|
|497.||Up The Country||12/31/2002|
|498.||A Bush Girl||3/26/2010|
|499.||Faces In The Street||12/31/2002|
|501.||Andy's Gone With Cattle||12/31/2002|
Andy's Gone With Cattle
Our Andy's gone to battle now
'Gainst Drought, the red marauder;
Our Andy's gone with cattle now
Across the Queensland border.
He's left us in dejection now;
Our hearts with him are roving.
It's dull on this selection now,
Since Andy went a-droving.
Who now shall wear the cheerful face
In times when things are slackest?
And who shall whistle round the place
When Fortune frowns her blackest?
Oh, who shall cheek the squatter now
When he comes round us snarling?
His tongue is growing hotter now
Since Andy ...
It is stuffy in the steerage where the second-classers sleep,
For there's near a hundred for'ard, and they're stowed away like sheep, --
They are trav'lers for the most part in a straight 'n' honest path;
But their linen's rather scanty, an' there isn't any bath --
Stowed away like ewes and wethers that is shore 'n' marked 'n' draft.
But the shearers of the shearers always seem to travel aft;
In the cushioned cabins, aft,
With saloons 'n' smoke-rooms, aft --