Where The Tarwin Waters Flow Poem by Francis Duggan

Through the flatlands and by tall gums and through paddocks where rank scrub grow
The World is so much quieter where the Tarwin waters flow
On it's journey in South Gippsland through the coastlands to the sea
Through a land as old as time itself it flows eternally.

Where the black tribes lived and hunted long before the white race came
And even long before the first people when the Tarwin did not have a name
Through the woodlands and the scrublands it slowly wound it's way
To the saltwater of Pacific every night and every day.

On a gray gum by the Tarwin white backed magpie's flute ring clear
And the kookaburra laughing on a high branch somewhere near
And the scrub wren he is chirping where the ferns and rank scrub grow
In the woods of old Leongatha where the Tarwin waters flow.

I am just a passing stranger who has stopped in passing through
For a short walk amongst Nature and for to admire the view
And where the butcherbird is piping I can hear the pale eyed crow
Cawing hoarsely in the twilight where the Tarwin waters flow.