She Often Yearns For The Sherbrooke Hills Poem by Francis Duggan

The currawong the crow sized birds are piping in the rain
And everytime she visualize she fancies she can hear again
The kookaburras laughing and the white cockies calling on the tall gum trees
And the flute like song of the butcherbird carrying in the freshening breeze.

Compared to the noisy city Nature's voice is not loud
And she long for places south of here far from the noisy crowd
On the busy streets of Sydney the cars race to and fro
She often yearns for the Sherbrooke hills and the life she used to know.

In her old home in Selby down south and far away
The white backed magpie flutes his song for to greet the dawn of day
She came north to the big city for the reward of better pay
And the girl may leave her mountain but memories of her mountain with her stay.

She left her home in Selby by the Puffing Billy track
For to work for better pay in Sydney and though she won't be going back
For to live again in Sherbrooke fond memories with her will remain
Of the currawong on the tall trees piping in the wind and rain.