The Yarra Ranges Poem by Francis Duggan

The poets and the artists the wooded hills inspire
The hills of the Yarra Ranges of the old Sherbrooke Shire
In my wild flights of fancy I hear the lyrebird sing
In the damp depths of Winter long before the first of Spring
The horn of Puffing Billy as ever sounds so shrill
The old Belgrave to Gembrook steam train goes puffing up the hill
Dark smoke from it's emission pipe rise upwards to the sky
Quite visible for miles around in weather clear and warm and dry
The call of the kookaburras is an unmelodious air
Around the wooded hillsides these creatures are not rare
And the flute like song of the gray butcherbird one never could mistake
He tunes his pipe at morning as the dawn begins to break
In the old Yarra Ranges from here many miles away
But in fancy I am back there in the wooded hills today