OPI N ION S OF

’ A O I - I DD O I A . S FR N M LET N S F RST BOOK OF COLON IAL POETRY

' —“ Wm M R osettz . A a a mo n o f s m s . . l rge u t pirit , i pul e , and o x ss o n man s i n s s a nd a ssa s f rcible e pre i , y trik g ver e p ge , and g n rall a t o n in uch su ri o r to the co mmo n l a c e e y e ’ pe p e w n o f o rdi na ry verse riti g . ' “ ‘ — The art o f R o éerz Bmd es. h s b o o 15 g! ! t i k very direct ‘ ’ n n m s a a s n a a nd the feeli g u i t k bly i cere . G briel i s a n e x tremely fo rcible e x pre ssi o n o f th e u n fa ili ng stren gth o f a tru a ssi o n much t o a dmir and man fine e p ” e y s ns e x pre s io .

u m t 1 1 2 A Th e A flzm a . h . . S afro n i , S t 7 , 9 Middl ’ ep e to n 5 B ush a n d S ea R /zy m es stan d a p a rt by virtue o f the n n o n s n n ss o f ma s ge ui e , f rceful feeli g , triki g vivid e the i ge a n d s o n . o ms b a o o s o d cri ti Viril y vig r u t . e p ’ e p e p e Co mra des with i ts impre ssio n o f the dro ught -swept a n w sw o f o s a nd s d um pl i , the ide eep r ck crub , the erelict g s s a n flo s o f a o s n a o ss a sk tree , the di t t ck p rr t curli g cr y like mo n a ss i s wo n s o f u n ns e lte gl , rth hu dred the cult red u i pir d s n a w o ur E n li sh ss s o an verse be e th hich g pre e gr .

a r R vz Ma 1 1 Co n tem o r e ew . a n i n p y , y , 9 3 M y their direct a ppea l t o the hea rt a n d with their vivid repre se n ta o n o f na a nd o f ma n a ss o n a n d a n n o f n ti tur hu i r i g , f ri g e p ” ye e w o f a a us po etic o rk re lly high ! u lity .

N w Y o rk World. A a o n a s a a n o e re lly rigi —l Au tr li p et reve a l s th a t ra re st o f c o mbi na ti o n s a true p o et a n d — z o o s s ff h mo s . an na u ri t bree y , vig r u , pirited u ected a m n a c an s n a nd n po et i d th t i g thi k . ‘

E vem n S ta n da rd. C n ss s 1n s s s g l v r lur th v r , ’ e e e k e e e e and a a o n a wa s sa s so m n wo sa n th V g b d l thi g rth i g , e ” y y e y so me ce n tra l th o ught .

’ Pu bl zs/z ers C27 cu la r Of the fe w ri si ng British Co l o n ia l o s a o o f s o m o mi s s t o o a a p et , the uth r thi v lu e pr e ccupy pl ce

m s a n . i s a i r M . i n the fo re o t r k There th t t o uch n Middle ’ to n 5 w n w a a s to a i n h o m an riti g hich ppe l the re der the el d , a nd he h as the supreme merit o f prese n ti n g th a t which he ms The o m i s a no a a o n t m n a ffi r . v lu t bl dditi o o d r ” e e e po etica l litera ture . Bu sh S o ngs Ove rse a V o i ce s

I N CLUDI N G

Son s o tae S oa ta Sea I sla m/s g f ,

A ustra li a Etc . ,

By

Safro ni —M le to A . idd n Autho r o f

The u o b o a h o f Sa o - Mus c an e tc A t i gr p y a il r i i , . , ’ f sh m Ma ches n ac s e tc fo o m o s o . r C p er Briti Ar y r , E tr te , , Regimen t al Ban ds

Lo n do n

o hn Lo n Li mi te d J g,

N o i s St e et H a market rr r , y

! A ll rigi d! reserved!

CON TEN TS

PART I . F OREWORD To ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON BETRAYED LOOKING BACK GRAVES OF THE OUTCASTS THE RIVALS THE LEPER ISLE THE E! I LE TRADER THE OLD SAI LO R A ROVER’S SON G WHY DO I SING ? SHEA- OAKS DESIRE OF THE H ILLS THE HOMESTEAD IN TH E F OR EST TH E F RIEND LY ISLAN DS MA F ELETO’S PH I LOSOPHY THE MISSING EAR L A VOICE FROM THE SOUTH SEAS THE STOR M A MEMORY A N E! ILE’ S DREAM Y ESTER DAY DRIFTING Y EAR S PA R TED PACI F I C ISLANDS SAMOA HOMEWARD BOUND THE CHIEF MATE IN TH E BUSH

3 243 1 6 6 Co n ten ts

TH E GOLD COAST A SAILOR’S GRAVE A WINDY N IGHT TH E BRIDAL N IGHT A STUDY IN CON TR ASTS A BUSH GRAVE ER E I AM OLD I SHALL DREAM A N D DREAM RHYMES OF A BEACHCOMBE R A FTER MANY Y EARS ROMANCE OUTWARD BOUND

PART II . A PIONEER’S SONG TH E BUSH MAN ’S REVERI E COMRADES TH E DR OUGHT TH E DES ER TED HUT BUSH LONELI N ESS TH E OLD SKIPPER LI F E A DREAM GAB R IEL ABSEN T PA T MCPHI z z BUSH MEMORIES THE CABI N BOY TH E OLD RUSTIC’S RE! UEST TH E WI LD COMPOSER A VOICE F R OM TH E STOCKHOLD SUNDOWN ERS TH E PR OD IGAL’S RETURN ON THE ROCKS A BUSH DR EAM MODERN LONDON Bu sh S o ngs Ove rs e a V o ice s

FO R EWO RD

’ MA Y o r y u eyes o er my rhymes gaz e ki ndly Sma s o ts o f m ne ll gift , th ugh i , ’ Dreams gath er d Whe re brave men drink blindly a o r h e w n The g ll t i e . ’ ’ On s s t ro ea s nse s e re ro v n hip h d d u t th y i g,

Or a n cam - ro n s l ughi g p th g , The men wh o h ave liv ed and a re mo ving ’ To -n ro m so n s ight th y g .

’ Th e ir gh o sts th ro d ead mo o nlight co me cree ping ! A wind fro m the sea

F a n - ruffles e e wa er o n s e e n i t d p t l g l pi g, I n m sts a ro n me i u d ,

F aces s a o w en e rl c n n h d y , t d y li gi g , F lo at ste pp e s and the wave s By camp - fi res again sitting si nging A ll o ut o f thei r graves.

’ The winds th ro th e S hea - o aks are sighi ng B o r s n y d ee p f e t ight . ’ T me s castawa s o me n s ee n i y , r ugh l p , lyi g m - A ro un d e to night . ’ Th e stars th ro d ark branches are bu rni ng A cro ss th e du sk - ski es The seas o n the skyline are chu rni ng n s o f mo o nr se Up ti t i .

B e r e n s i n ro ws e are sno r n y th i t t th y i g , ’ am e s e neat the ms C p d , hu h d h gu , ’ The mo o n o e r the i r figu re s light po uri ng ’ r m e n ms O e y Sl e pi g chu . 8 B ush S ongs and Ove rsea V o ice s

‘ ‘ H s Tlxz wi zids r whi fis ro m ee o o w u h , d ift f d p h ll s - a Marsh flowe rs and gum spr y . The grey gh o st o f dawn hunting fo ll o ws They all ru sh a way

T e are o ne w t e r s o r es e a er h y g , i h th i t i , th ir l ught , A nd so me with th at so ng That sang i n th eir he ads years a fte r Wh at gri e f o r Wh o se wro ng ? ’ Sad e x es rom o mes o e r ee wa e s il f h d p t r , A ve o r o n ea ? li , l g d d Eyes tru e as tall so ns and fai r daughters That tramp o v erh ead

F o r e r so s ve i n o ur c es th i uls till li iti , Th ey sat by yo u r kne es ’ Old co n r o r c en s o o d u t y, y u hildr bl it is H ere o v er the seas A nd beware all fo es o f the Ho me - Land H er s e rn fla s fles t g till i , A az e i n the o o the r o f the and bl bl d , g ip h , Th s Of e r e e o ul th i yes.

S o a e m o n s e are s n n , t k y s g , th y i gi g Of wav es by a sho re Wh ere Vines and wattles o ft cli nging Cl o se so me Shanty - do o r ’ A nd the hu t s bright firesid e e mbers ’ Outsid e o er hi s grave ’ ! O er th e man th at no o ne re memb ers) W er fl a h e the bu sh o wers w ve .

Bush S o ngs and Ov e rs ea V o ic e s 1 1

TO THE M EM O RY OF RO BERT LO UI S S TEVEN S O N

! BURIED ON TOP OF VAILIMA MOUNTAIN)

WHERE feathery trees stretch fan - shaped fin gers streaming

- n Dark coco palms by tumbli g waves , ’ Neath skies of dusky blue as stars are dreaming

- In still lagoons by coral caves . ’ ’ e Where o er the silent plateau s mosses cre ping , n The stars and moons go steali g by , f With eyelids closed orever , he lies sleeping

Against the sky.

’ e Lusi tala slumb rin i i D ad g, yet still s ng ng ’ ’ fe ath er - i Thro d throats of native b rds , Sweet unborn poems to the sea - wi nds flinging A s come the roaming, homeless herds Of seas tha t creep from other distant seas To toss white hands below and die ’ Gai nst barrier reefs as be nding isl and trees

To winds sing high .

r A thrill lives in the hea t of these my dreams , ’ Your living eyes , your voice I ve known .

I did not dream , there by Samoan streams , s In fore t depths with you alone , Some day in other lands among strange men I ’ d hear surfs beat against the joy — — Of long ago like grief the change since when w I as a boy . 1 2 Bush S o ngs and Ove rse a Vo ice s

The ships their weary wings hang in the bay !

Brown men roam shore tracks of moonlight, ’ And homeland sailors , ere they sail away To fade with sunset down the night Of solitude and stars as wild sails race ’ On with the dark the day s flight west , — ’ But you have met the light beyond God s Face , And all the rest ?

- S S . leep on, dead poet of the sea nursed outh Still thro ’ the hearts of men you creep The frozen music of your long - dead mouth Melts in the warmful passion leap Of souls that move in living dreams along The shores by your high silent home

- Where lips must cease to sing sweet poet song ,

And eyes to roam .

’ ’ A set mo untai n d s grave neath warm skies of isle ,

Fenced by dim Skylines of blue seas , By typhoons swept— then noiseless velvet miles

Where stars reveal bright mysteries , ’ w And o er fair slopes , huts of bro n savage men , S The outh Sea race that mourning dies , Before the Western tramp to vanish when The cities rise To fade forever as a wondrous dream

C Of midnight drums and hieftain songs ,

The ambushed tribe , the distant forest scream

- Wild girls , and happy heathen throngs

Of faces by small huts and glimmering fires , As on the mountain height you lie

Like some dead Christ, with all your dead desires ,

Against the sky . Bush S o ngs and Ove rse a V o ice s 1 3

BETR A YE D

!TAHITIAN NATIVE GIRL)

’ ’ A S nude as God s first thought of woman plann d — She stands like stars her eyes aglow A Curved velvet limbs , the pple in her hand — i h Of Scripture her breast the woe .

The forest winds kiss her uplifting hair ,

- The jungle grass tares soft bare thighs ,

- she A blood stain ed blossom now staggers there,

A hunted soul as daylight dies .

’ Her coral - lips have felt the white man s kiss

Dark trouble lurks below her breast ,

! s Girl , fool you heard impassioned lies , the blis

You Western cities know the rest .

her - Deserted stands little hut to night, The Chieftains in the village prayed s With wrathful wives , the gods to curse , to mite The helpless head of love betrayed !

C sh e n A hild with quivering limbs on flight sta ds ,

How quickly gaze despairing eyes . ’ Hark ! death s tom - tom beats in these heathen lands Out seaward her last sunset dies !

* A tri bal fo rm o fjustice tha t fall s o n the head o f the So uth Sea na tive girl who has b n n o na e no to s e nde se f to o f he wh e ma n ee u f rtu t e ugh urr r her l the lure t it . 1 4 Bush So ngs and Ov e rse a V o ic e s

Th e hunting tribes race at her heels with hate She fades into the forest deep as e To die decreed by idols cruel Fat . — Girl may God give your sorrow sleep . Bush S o ngs and Ov e rse a Vo ic e s 1 5

LO O K I NG B A CK

’ ’ I VE sat on these Slopes neath tropic Skies A s the stars crept over , heard L ost voices of friends , bright meanings in eyes Expressed by the voice of a bird

A s sat - it safe high on its Skyward twig , In the banyans by the sea Chucklin g its silver- song to the jig Of wild men who danced round me

’ I ve laid in my little doorless hut , When the moon sailed high in the sky

- With dreaming eyes in the gloom half Shut , Seen the night swans flying by

Out under the stars , far over the trees , ’ I ve watched them fade in the dusk ,

' - whifls As wind crept, came in from the seas

- Damp , laden with flower scent musk .

’ I ve thrown my swag in the bush , cursed Fate, With tears in my eyes I ’ve stood By the spot where men sleep on and wait The Voice of I n fini tude ’ Then I ve crept along by the forest track , In my ears heard steal the laughter — Of old dead days a swag on my back m — Of memories hu ped years after . 1 6 Bush S o ngs and Ove rse a V o ice s

’ sat sea- Oh , I ve in my dingy port room , ’ Heard my new chum s tale of woe, Thanked God for the deep surrounding gloom A s tears from my eyes did flow

as men Then , I shared my crust , we do

In distant lands afar, we But he stole my Share . If only knew By sight who the best men are

’ see So you I ve sorrowed , dreamed and thought ’ men O er the best, and worst, in , e Plunged deep in the s as of life and sought, Aye— found pearls beyond the ken

Of you men in cities beyond the plain , Where the stern black walls arise !

so And , I can gaze, nor seek in vain

Pale flowers of your stifled eyes . And I dream and dream as the stars go by ’ b ut sea O er my , while far at ’ Waves toss and toss neath the moonlit sky And in fellowship with me ’ Taking my exiled heart o er the seas , Like sweet melody in pain The night- bird sings in the windy trees

Over and ove r again .

1 8 Bush S o ngs and Ov e rs e a V o ice s Unto your ears what secret olden times ? Wh at night- bird sang o n in your head ’ The lyric - song that God s thought kindly rhymes

- Off at the end when men l i e dead . Those jungle flowers that smudge the grass acros s Where now forgotten quiet you sleep I could half dream they write with blood the loss — That chance might give the griefs men reap .

In that old shanty by the shore you slept, Or heard the sleepless friendly tree s ’ Bend neath the stars as night - winds wildly swept

Across impassioned typhoon seas .

fierce— With lit eyes , the savage girl there felt That absence of your soul from hers

th e - But trustful till end, grief wailing knelt

- fl w Where now the bursting blood o er stirs .

I know , impassioned love remembrance brings ,

Though brown lips kiss to crimson flame , The white girl in the heart sti ll sits and sings

s - — A dies the alien dream to shame . Who nailed you down P—the men who sang with you

b ut wall The photo on your small , P Your dead hands held They , more than most men , knew

If heaven or hell , it was your all ,

The truth revealed , the real man lying dead ,

- All changed , the beer besotted face

A - ffi pale school boy in that rough co n bed , The devil ousted from the place C omrades sleep well here on this heathen isle , ’ This savage land o er seas afar, God knows you mostly need His special smil e sad i . Graves , where the lost ch ldren are Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rse a V o ic e s 1 9

THE RIVA LS

! SAMOA)

Maffal o IN my wattle hut by I lay nor can I sleep , ’ e i De p waters beat aga nst my heart, thro my head the

night winds sweep , For the brown one sleeps by the forest track with the

banyans overhead , And the white girl sleeps by the Chann el cliffs where the

white men bury their dead .

A nd ti n as a the roofs shine, the traders rest by the be ch i and st ll canoes , Where the shoreline huts in silence stan d by the wave

less straight bamboos , And when the moonli ght whitely falls slantwise across

the hill ,

m e a the And the pal s and shor l goons for miles , with

sleeping winds , are still,

o ne f The brown from the orest runs , the white girl from the se a

With shinin g eyes by my hut door in silence gaze on me . the e And I cannot sleep as dead eyes m et , fierce eyes of ebon flame ! ’ s r as she The grey eye gleam thro shadowy hai , of old

moans my name . In moonlight strugglin g silently they gli mmer in the

gloom , — A s wai ls the native dead child far in forest deep o f doom ! 2 0 Bush S o ngs and Ov e rse a V o ic e s And the wistful unborn children rise down by the shore

ward palms , se a Peep from the with anxious eyes , and toss their small white arms — But deep in my heart the dead one screams from i ts

grave across the steep , And I kno w it will with frightened eyes soon out of the forest creep A s I watch the figures ebon and gold oft brighten by

moonlight , Till the white one wins and the brown one runs back to the forest night

she And , in vain , I leap to shadowy arms , as crying

flees from me ,

Down shoreward runs , in a flash of flame dives back to

the moonlit sea .

SO as the , I drink and drink nights go by , and the

schooners day by day,

Taking my heart with the white sails home , where the

sunsets fade away .

se a- s Till the wind cease and the trees all sleep , and the are hushed waves all still, And the moonlight slantwise falls across the forest track and hill As I listening wait for the rustling sound with my — dreaming eyes unshut Till out in the night by the pale moonlight their shadows seek my hut t Out of the forest depth one runs , and the whi e girl up the shore Till the dead child screams and the unborn watch the

shadows by my door . B ush S o ngs and Ov e rs e a V o ic e s 2 1

THE LEPER I S L E

L W ! MO OKAI , HA AII)

OUT of grey crags by warder- seas they c reep With wailing voices as the stars steal by

Dead men fast rotting on dark shores of sleep, Their earthly eyes still shape the shadowed sky ! an d Poor skeletons , they moan , laugh , grin weep

In loathsome , amorous arms some still lie . ’ — T m u Entombed , they curse the sun i e s cr el dial

u M e r . Above that vault , the So th Sea p Isle

! Hark to the midnight scream , then silence after Of desolation voiced by waves that leap — By sepulchres damp huts of sheltered rafter, Where dreaming dead men shout thro ’ Shroudless sleep A s windy trees wail dreams of long dead laughter ! ’ A s b ut o er each wattle the night winds sweep, ’ A n d dying eyes watch ships out o er the night ,

- Past shores of death with port holes gleaming bright .

’ Twas on that Charnel - Isle with watching eyes He sat by dead men who still heard the waves saw Beat shoreward , the south sea white moonrise Bathe their own long forgotten flo werless graves

- Exiled , pale hero priest, and oft their cries

* “ ” The m o na Dam n sa fi e h is n o o a he e f ss . o s o r i i ry J ie , cri c d life M l k i , t L per I le, ma n a s a nd n a o n a he s as hi s d a h he was d n y ye r , eve tu lly c tr cted t di e e . After e t , e ied hi s s n s l -sacri fice a o s m ssi o na s me n wh o e m a o n ple did e f by je l u i rie , ! uickly f ll , i p led the m swo e e n o f o e Lo s e v nso n i n hi s e eb a ed o en e to ighty rd ! th p ) R b rt ui St e , c l r t p lett r e M H he v. C e R . . t . yd 2 2 Bush S o ngs an d Ove rse a V o ice s

S e hi s sad s s mot listening ear , like unto cave ’ s That voice the mournful tone of ocean roll ,

Infinity entombed sang in hi s soul .

’ as sat Lonely God, he enthroned o er pain , ’ Brave music made of desolation s sorrow , ’ Christ - like gazed o er the deathless crying slain

Eyes breathing light , foretelling some bright morrow Till from their tombs they rose— the dead again

Dark skeletons of woe , arose to borrow ’ — Life from Molokai s hero men denied

That leper priest !like Christ) when Damien died . B ush S o ngs and Ove rse a V o ic e s 2 3

THE E ! I LE TRA DER

WHAT i s life worth when fate - waters are breaking ’ Gainst the gloom of the night the dreaming man hears ’ Wh en the best men are gone and time s stern hand is making ’ Dark walls tween the silence of old and new years .

When the letters that came with small flowers inside , ’ s And memories sweet , a girl s laughing brown eye ,

sh e Cease , and you feel in your heart has died ,

By the Sickening gaze of the sun in the skies .

A s you lay in your bunk , in your hut in the dark,

- - Hear wings of night birds , tap tapping outside

ee - S shadows glide moonlight , by clumps of iron bark Troopingdead men out on some lonely night ride

- e Pale campfires bright burning lit by the moonb ams ,

Out over the hillsides all gleaming again , — e The dead sitting laughing , brav rollicking streams ,

The men of the past in the dreams that remain .

ta e The s rs fad away, my soul wings the seas , s Till dawn like a maiden step out of the night , S s pring out of the skyline as winds stir the trees , S di ’d tands blushing, her sandals pp , crimsoned with light

The village still sleeps , folks abed are still dreaming , All ! years ago dead)Oh , how my heart beats A s sad d I creep, a ghost , ere chil ren rush streaming T l he grey stealing dawn of those smal silent streets . 24 Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rse a V o i ce s

TH E OLD S A I L O R ! REVERIE)

! MAR! UESAS ISLANDS) I DON ’T kno w why the Past comes back in dreams again

- to night ,

But men , remembering , live this way again . Old My feet toil towards the stars , just like a fly for light , That slipping climbs the window pain in vain ! ’ - m I ve had my day ! men all ust die , yet life seems sweet, heaven knows

We grabbed the chances in wild lands afar .

And now , the lads are dead and gone until the grand storm blows ’ Me out to meet them all where er they are .

fli e s God , drift my soul away to sea , aye as the lone ship The derelict ’s torn sails and trailing spars

That in some tropic calm afar, into the sunset dies ’ Away as night s great sorrow sighs the stars . Nor shall I be dead utterly ! in sea - ports of the world Rosy boys and girls will have some look of me

Though dead , my passions in young limbs and eyes will ’ dance unfurl d ’ se Where er tired ships come creeping in from a .

' Bush So ngs an d Ove rse a V o ic e s

b ands And so in dream s I take your ,

- In long dead eyes I gaze , And half in tears from other lands

Bring back the dear old days . ’ In other lands neath greyer Skies

Wild rides again recall,

Your songs , your laughing , manly eye s

The boy who loved you all .

’ Lies in my sea- chest neath my bed

The fiddle, stringless, still !

s Old chums , ince all of you are dead , ’ Neath forest steep and hill , I cannot play the songs you loved ! But with tired eyes and pen who I strive to tell the truth , roved, — ’ And found you God s best men . B ush S o ngs and Ov e rse a V o ice s 27

WHY DO I S ING

WHY do I sing of sunsets far, where the dying skyline ends , ’ And why, oh why , are the world s worst men my very dear , best friends ? ’ Deep in my heart I somehow know tis the sad lips say i those th ngs ,

- That fluttering cry and steal away to God on Angel wings .

Wh y do I Sing of homeless men and happy, singing birds ,

s ? Of sunsets on the boundle s seas with tender, poet words ’ Because I know men , birds , and flowers on lands neath all the skies ’ - Are . beautiful , are sorrow tears of God s creating eyes 2 8 Bush S o ngs and Ov e rsea V o ic e s

S H EA O A K S

! AUSTRALIA)

TH E - - breeze wail of myalls , and Shea oaks I can hear on the steep ’ Faint echoes the wood - cutter s axe - strokes From forest glooms deep — ’ And sweet sounds , oh , a girl s bright laughter Comes back like a song That brings tears to our eyes years after

A S memories throng .

’ I know that time s hand has rung changes, That only in dreams

Moonlight falls asleep on the ranges . The voices of streams To my ears in moonlight are singing

- Beneath the gum trees . Yet only one voice is still ringing

The voice of the seas .

Old comrades , with ships down the Skylines , Have faded away n With sunsets , and o ly one star Shines M ’ y soul s mystic ray . In the mist and rain of the long nights My dreaming remains ’ But I m happy in dream s of those old fights ’ s O er sea and the plains . B ush S o ngs an d Ove rse a V o ic e s 2 9 And I greet you all of the old times

- Brave sea chums afar . Here ’s a toast ! The soul of my rough rhymes Wherever you are z I ga e in your eyes , dead or living ,

In alien lands . ’ If in heaven you ll cherish this giving ,

This clasp of the hands . 30 Bush S o ngs and Ov e rs e a V o ic e s

DE S I RE OF THE H I LLS

I LOVE the hills , the wilds , the hollows I somehow know a sweet dead swallow ’ s Flutteri ng soul imprisoned in mine cries ! I never see the dying flowers and mists of sunset autumn

hours ,

Out on the hills, but southward turn my eyes . ’ scatter d I hear the reckless drover singing , the stock all

homeward bringing , Across the plains where bushmen racing go ! ’ see - I the tall red woods stand sleeping, thro moon bright ’ r n o sso ms b a ches p leaping , A s men move by their small tents just below . Where life is one unpolished song of rhythms as you jog n alo g,

Old trees your friends , night and the starry Skies ! A sweet bird singing in the trees to serenade your

memories ,

A s - fire in the camp stare your dreaming eyes .

sea - l es - Oh , for the p curved and slanting , the tree frogs

round me weirdly chanting ,

- flo wered And in the moonlit, marsh scented swamp !

’ o ff sk - And far , on the dim y line , the swagman s tiny

- fire bush shine , ’ he s hi s . Where , homeless on the plains , pitched camp

’ Oh , for the cattle o er plains crawling , the chuckling

- cockatoos soft calling ,

- Big , bright winged blossoms breathing on a branch , B ush S o ngs an d Ov e rse a V o ic e s 3 1

n As creepi g ragged from the gums , the swagman safe

at sunset comes , th ’ To sleep inside e friendly squatter s ranch . ’ flame- And o er the Slopes the tree blooms , all fiery in soft twilight glooms ! ’ ’ A S westward o er the skyline s scant gum - trees

- e The parrots all fade far away, ring sp cks dim down the

dying day . ’ u ’ In tiny fleets , o er s nset s golden seas , ’ A s o er the hills tired sea - winds drifti ng creep down deep e e n hollows , l av s uplifti g,

And whiffs from bush flowers and sweet - scented musk ’ T - he day s death blood far westward flushing . all b ushin The woods asleep , the birds g, A s God sighs all the stars across the dusk . There in my b ut on some lone steep I long to lay my an d head sleep, ’ Half- dream the night - bird s clandestine refrain ’ I n as s some dead girl s voice outside si ging, moonlit l flowers the wa ls soft clinging, ’ Scent dreams that drift me o er the seas again 3 2 Bush S o ngs and Ove rs e a V o ic e s

THE H O MES TE A D ! ! UEEN S LAN D) I CAN still see the forest trees

All waving in the dusk, h Smell from damp glooms , sweet w iffs of breeze ,

Dead wattle blooms and musk . Where sunset floods the dying day

- c flo ck Ring Spe ked , where parrots Roams o ’er the plateau far away

The drover with his stock . The small bush homestead by the sea S till stands , the front door swings

A s - on the tall , gaunt dead gum tree

The magpie sits and sings .

There , by the door, the stockman sits

And smokes . On her red rug Hi s pale wife sits just by and knits His beard three children tug

as And I stand and dreaming gaze,

The years have taken wing ,

And from my heart out of old days , sad Comes this song I sing .

That garden where those children ran ,

Raced me , laughed , screamed with joy, I — s overgrown and I , a man ,

Have overgrown the boy . I know the redwood forest height

c Big bran hes thrilled with words , ’ ’ - s Rich laden d with God golden light,

s - Song of soft , bright winged birds

34 B ush S o ngs and Ov e rs e a V o ic e s

I N THE FO R ES T

’ TH R - O dark branched glooms oft do I creep , smell old

campfires , and know

Some strange delight deep in my heart , dead ages long ago ! ’ - Lost in the forest far, I creep neath thick mossed ancient

trees , My listening ears echoing shells of Immemorial seas ’ f Old winds drift damp scents o er a lake , whif s by my

nostrils stray, The wild men in canoes afar in sunset steal away ’ - w Blue flowers , blood fringed , peep istfully tween crags

- where damp drip curls ,

— - Gaze up are half remembered eyes of lovely wild dead

girls .

’ Then in the stillness sadly cries a lone- bird s song above And thrills my heart to tears for some for—gotten voice of

love . Bush S o ngs an d Ove rs e a V o ic e s 3 5

T H E FRI END LY I S LA ND S

’ THE seas I ve roamed , hypocrisy I hate ! God grafted in my soul sweet fire of song ’ ’ On life s dark hills I ve wrestled , fought with fate .

S S . tuck in South eas , still young I jog along ’N ’ eath strange stars Sit, o er me the banyan bends

These heathens round about their huts my friends .

— ’ We call them heathens well, tis habit most King Mafele to is my royal friend ’ Hi s ti s t st ancestors , true, did eat on T heir mortal enemies , but heaven defend That I should judge men by their long past crimes l We Christians too have had some fine o d times .

’ sho uti n heathen They re g‘ songs by their hut fires

At each brown breast clings one sweet little mouth ,

Their busy babes , unsatisfied desires Eyes sparkling starlight of the sea- nursed south

A s - b ut down the forest track , from hut to Pass natives dressed in half a coco- nut !

Writhes that grand pain—where dark Pacific Seas ’ ’ La sh tiny isles neath midnight s crystal skies , ’ Like tumbling silver glimmering thro dark trees ’ r sea- O er wild sho e reefs dark waves , curling , rise ! i Through bamboo branches shine w ld eyes , those sins , S e avag s clothed in loin strip and their own skins . 36 Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rse a V o ic e s

S n h ome nights I creep dow , visit my brown brot ers

- c In hive shaped den , ea h on a small mat squats ,

b - Wild ja bering men and rough haired squatting mothers , fish f I n All eating stu f steaming earth pots .

—i n They turn , smile , show white teeth as I creep ,

Such pleased dark eyes , as knees support each chin .

Big tattooed men like statues thrilled with life,

- They roam these forests old . Lithe curved limbed

girls ,

’ ri di s In modest dressed , laugh , race with strife ,

sun - flashe d My prize to win as fade their curls , ’ Gleam o er the slopes as long legs , racing , run , — Their bright eyes flying back my brass ring won

Of so Sweet eyes innocence , clear , wherein S r urp ised you gaze , to see calm virgin light ! si n Real colour shades of life , and still the Bright bubbling with sweet laughter in God ’s sight

- Our sins unborn , those diamond sparkling eggs

That hatched are spiders creeping on black legs .

’ ’ awild m I ve seen orgies neath these moonlit pal s , Like skeletons men dance thro ’ moonbeams white The midnight tribal drums beat loud alarms ’ A glimpse of whirling legs glide thro moonlight . ’ All come and vanish with th e tom - tom s tune

A s clouds passed one by one across the moon . And silently swayed Shadows to and fro ’ In sheets of glass that mi rro r d curved dark limbs All imaged in lagoons - where now below ’ Night s one small imaged cloud across soft- swims Melan o When Bingo took to wife g fair,

- — Hot bl ushing in soft bridal robe her hair ! Bush S o n gs and Ove rsea V o ice s 37

’ I ve seen their King in solemn state enthroned,

fire - And majestic gleam in his big eyes , A s i maidens swayed the r bodies , chanting , moaned n Fierce tribal so gs of deathless histories . In dead of night as tom - toms loud did heat

hi s The grim Court jester tickled big feet .

Like cherubims by each small hive -hut door Peeped small wild faces with sweet wondering eyes

As that old King , to hear such ancient lore,

Did lift long arms and chin towards the skies ,

To call down spirits of the mighty dead , To bless hi s i sle and fat anointed head

Then have I , dreaming, safe there up a tree , ’ Thought of my England s splendour and royal Courts , sea Gazed sadly at stars out across the ,

And wondered why creation changed first thoughts , f Made cities with crimes shu fling round in boots , When men so happy seemed in their skin suits

’ sa S Sea Men y mosquitoes fever, outh damp

i On velvet skins , and such like liv ng lies

’ ! i s By heaven here s half the truth , it the tramp di e Of white men that the brown ones like flies. ’ Nor could I sleep last night for traders rows , And Germans with wild women for their frows

You could run out a regiment of wild men , d w fif Para e them up and do n for ty years ,

Peer in their eyes , and bury them , and then eer Swear from your soul those fearless pion s, ’ That build a nation s glory, pomp and pride, Had less of virtue than the helpless side 38 B ush S o ngs and Ove rse a V o ic e s

’ a I ve s iled the seas , the lost brigade , those wrecks , ’ I ve chummed with them on their wild flight of haste , ’ s They d killed some one , may be pas ed those bad

cheques .

? e s ! Rough diamonds well , y , some just bits of paste ’ - ! There s two here now, clean shaved, dyed bless your

hearts , I ’ve seen some funny beggars round these parts They’ll build a church a prison ’ s gloomy walls

Where wild men by their huts now squat and sing .

- Erect a gallows when the trap door falls , Civilisation will be in full swin g

Nor is this satire , but my modest pun On justice and grim truth beneath the sun Where are the unknown seas where they’ll ne ’er come ? ’ Wild , hurrying souls , the poet s pioneers S ing me a song of silent tribal drum ,

- r Dead camp fi e s and bush griefs of other years . ’ s God . where s the wave that run up Singing , soars And breaks to spray on undiscovered shores ?

- ! Old world , good bye my dreams have ceased to borrow ,

Strange gleam of stars across this mystic isle . ’ Heaven s calm face brightens like an eye from sorrow , A s dawn swamps skyline dark where drift clouds

smile ,

And tumbling down the slopes , rush , plump and brown , The wild man ’s children from the small hut town B ush S o ngs an d Ov e rse a V o ic e s 39

MA F ELET O’ S P HI L O S OPHY

! SOUTH SEA IS LAN DS)

’ A n o ld S o uth S ea I slander s real o pinio n o f the whit e ’ man s re w hi s cre e n o hi s r meva ro v nces t k ith d i t p i l p i , and n erest n nasm c as i ves o ne an ns n o i t i g , i u h it g i ight i t r hi s View o f thinkin g and seeing thi ngs as they a e .

COME round me , kinsmen , let the white man go ,

What knows he of our soul , to heathen us , Who drink the virgin forest sap ? We kn o w — T n . his much enough , he is a knowi g cuss

’ Are there no shadows neath his native sky, N 0 children starving by his forest tent As from the Royal King’ s comes the roystering cry ’ ? Of festive song , no souls , no heart s grief rent

s - w Let him shout on , pa s me the full nut bo l , ’ ? I m old , would I trust to his wretched creed

I , with my fifty gods , that soothe my soul , — — Must fail them all trust to one god indeed L — I ’ m ook you wise , a dead white man is dead ’ ’ Should he offend his H eav n while neath the sun ’ we ? — And well , at the worst , when our soul s fled , ’ ! If fifty fail , we ve still his Mighty One

’ He d steal our souls , curse him , his lying race Claimed by blue seas and this my ancient isle Remember well do I that first white face ’ t wards That blessed my head , with hand heaven

smile , 40 Bush! S o ngs an d Ove rse a V o ice s — Pah ! I believe d that grin had I known then Those eyes gazed from the spirit heart of hell ’ ’ — ti s I d slain him faith , true these strange white men e — es One virtue have wh n cooked y , do eat well

’ ss ti s r Pa me the bowl , time to g ieve , at most,

When in sick dying eyes the last stars sleep . ’ s We ve won our battles too , enjoyed the roa t ’ Of what sweet foes ! ti s even so we reap S ! e weet vengeance They , those prating whit men skunks

de file d e Our wives , our land made one Vil hell

- Cursed missionaries , and traders on night drunks ’ n e e ! Ah I ve a tale, whe d ad, th ir God to tell

B ush S o ngs an d Ov e rse a V o ice s

’ watch d I , who have white bodies shine ’ Thro gauzy veils in splendid halls ,

And eyes that Sparkled rich with wine ,

And now , ye gods , hear that applause , As white - teethed maidens clap and praise ! Each effort , as my knees I raise

I have discarded evil dress , ’ s What care I now for life sweet chance , A S naked in my fig- leaf- ness Beneath the South Sea moon I dance Gaze in these dusky lo ve li t eyes ’ ’ This thing I ll love thro changeless doom , ’ sh e For , my wife , neath English Skies , s — Alas did vani h with my groom . B ush S o ngs an d Ove rse a V o ic e s

A VO ICE FRO M THE S O UTH S E A S COOL under the gums a river runs down Murrumbidgee wa y, And every night in the redwood height the star- eyed ’possums play Till over the slopes the sto ckwhip rings and the echoing hoofs faint bea t A s up in the hills the lyre - bird fills the bush with music swee t And far away by the eyes of day the big black swans in lines Of curling wings like paddling things glide where the

sunrise shines . ’ Out over the mountain ridge they pass , while far o er the velvet steep The stockmen ride the scrub slope side chasing the flying sheep ! And miles away the dim sea waves like white moss rise and fall A s the deep - sea ships where the skyline dips across the

‘ wide world crawl , As the sea winds roam from their wild storm hom e to

- flo wers kiss the rich bush , An d threading the Slopes the green vine gropes where the

- karri karri towers , While over the western slopes away on the winds I dreaming go A way with my comrades of the hills where the Scented

wattles blow . 44 B ush S o ngs an d Ove rs e a V o ic e s

A s the galloping hoofs beat to the tune of the landscape flitting by ’ A nd the screaming cockatoos above as we crash neath

the blue gums high , Till scrambling from the dead scrubwood to their roosts

they flapping scream , ’ As far away the deep sea waves toss in the moon s

white dream ,

A s s racing the mossy open slopes we hear their fading crie .

And bending my head I kiss my mare , gaze down in her beautiful eyes

And the wild star- flo wers seem dancing through the

lakes of all the skies .

Then down in the hollow gullies gloom , around the camp bush - fire The winds from seaweed creeping come to sweep each

leafy lyre , ’ ’ With spirit fingers wail thro trees and the Shea - oaks o er

the plains ,

And we are the souls of the melodies of the all - night - long

refrains .

n Ah , those were the days whe life was sweet , when we

galloped side by side , And where was the stockman who could race me over the reaches wide When I was a boy and all the world gazed in my eyes with pride ?

Days follow days , nights follow nights , and the traders come and go

A s I watch the lonely schooner pass where the deep ,

wide waters flow, Bush S o ngs an d Ove rs e a V o ic e s 45

’ Fading away o er ocean dark as the dying simooms blow , Till the stars pale fall in the mirroring deep of each wild shore lone lagoon A s the smoke - like sails all silver fired glide by the low

- sea moon . And who am I that sings this song? A S the sunset wind soft grieves With the wild birds ’ bubbling music blown thro ’ scented

wild fruit leaves , As I si t and dream of the old dead days here on these u Sea So th isles , ’ With undressed blacks , shut in alone by the skyline s

- wide sea miles . ’ A S toiling in for ever creep up ocean s breast of sands The little South Se a wailing waves to toss their snow ‘ white hands ’ - Time s homeless waifs , they crying kiss wild red lipped

coral lands . Hark ! chanting on the steep slope- side the big brown wild men squat

- i By beehive dens , while sadly I half envy the r wild lot ! A white man I who sadder am to hear those old - world tunes That seem the sad survival of dead sunsets and dead

moons ,

h - And I , a moral w ite bleached thing , who left here long

ago ,

so And have returned to find , alas I am no better

As seaward stare my weary eyes , for Fate has willed that I Should wake the little conscious things that watch the

stars go by . — For oh ! I love their small plump backs and little demon eyes 46 Bush S o ngs and Ov e rs e a V o ic e s

Si x s as sh e s of them romping on the slope lolling fat lie ,

- trO i c s My half caste wife , the blacker for the blue of p skie — s And me also disgraced, exiled from all the family tie .

A s the swallows swift are flying by. the shores of English s s ea , And the swaying rooks hoarse calling from the inland

- s tall elm tree , ’ A S the scented hedgerow flowers warm pulse are musical s with bee , A s I watch the dipping sunsets sink skyline to i skyl ne,

’ O er the whole wide world that lies between this isle and

dreams of mine . i Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rs e a V o i ce s 47

THE S TO RM

CRASH ! over a world of wind and dark the thundering

wild seas leapt , And the swaying sails cried overhead where the homeless night - wind swept d Like monsters hungry from the deep , heave up each giant ’ b ack d sea , ’ Neath sailors clinging on the yards who swore most fearfully !

’ i whi d - And the l ghtning pp the wind blown black , each Vivid s apphire flash , ’ U — i u p rais ng night s roof, beautif l , that fell with thunderous crash I ’ ’ ro ll d as That boomed and way southward faint, shouting

on the wind , ’ ’ n m - - The Bo sun s yelli g tru pet voice died phantom like behind . r The old ship dived , crouched , shivering swe ved , a moment broadside laid

fi ure - ! A flash revealed her g head , uplifted hands that prayed ’ Th e bearded skipper tramp d the poop as lightning streaked

the clouds ,

’ ’ sea Breathed night s wild brilliance o er the , and on the

tattered shrouds . A s li we sailed along, and the sky ne winked each flash and muttering coughed

The thunder far, and the sailors climbed , singing high aloft , ll l A nd a the fierce wi d hunting seas, like troops by night

r tu ned out, 48 B ush S o ngs and Ov e rse a V o ic e s

and h Wild regiments , charged charged the ship ! t e baffled winds did shout !

’ - Then lovely o er wild ocean dark , swept moon white

mystery , ’ And up the brave boat wounded sprang , o er hollows of

the sea,

’ L - fri hte n d has ike some wild hunted, g stag, from c ing wi nd s did flee !

‘ sea ! ! ! Then we shouted a wild chanty, Blow blow blow the man down ! A ll English sailors flying along home bound for London

Town . ’ sto d Till breathless pp each shouting mouth , Death screamed across the sky ’ t o It chilled our blood creeping ice, a comrade s far lost cry I

To d windwar rose sheer breaking walls , the brave ship

swerved and stopped .

L u deckward ike th ndering icebergs , seas arose , crash over dropped !

- Wild , wrecking clouds the storm moon smashed , left not

one little spark , To light the travelling mountain seas ’ fierce charging ebon dark ’ e e We hov her to , ach storm flash swept a bright dream o er

the wave ,

Revealed a crew of faces white , all huddled by a grave o ut Head over all the skipper stood, hand arched , seaward

stared ,

hi s Old s s Each flash revealed grand face, wind sideway swung hi s beard

50 Bush S o ngs and Ove rsea V o ice s

o — Forg t the ship , and for the storm well, did not care a hang ! tz rht The wheelsman hung g to the wheel , the Skipper to hi s b unk

' due and drO ed i n— We lifted up with respect, pp him dead drunk ! ’ ’ n the Old And o ly God knows , I don t , why ship wasn t

sunk . And if my brave chums of the sea by some stran ge chance should look see Old And these lines of mine rhymed out , the days in

my book , ’ A whoeve r the ma be lthough I m now a country squire , y y ,

If they be comrades of those days , come inland down

to me . We’ll drink and shout with wild delight here round this

friendly blaze, A nd wake the silent village night with songs of other days ! Bush S o ngs and Ove rse a V o ic e s 5 1

A M EM O RY

THE grey old skipper on the poop Sways on from left to right

Out on the moonlit , shining sea ’ He s in his grave to - night

se e - I his bearded , sea worn face ,

S ea- boots rise to his knees , ’ His oilskin cap bashed o er his eyes , ’ That gaze o er unknown seas.

A travelling , windy, wooden world ,

’ o e rs read The scented sails p , c As like some pale besee hing Christ,

The praying figure - head

Voyaging fast roams Southern Seas . The swaying masts and spars

’ With rhythmic chime swi ng hea ven s dome A n d silently the stars

’ A s r d eaming o er the decks I move , ’ ’ ’ ’ Thro fo c s le gloom I creep ! The oil lamp ShOWeI ‘ S its dingy gleam ’ O er sailors fast asleep . Their slumberi ng faces glide along Each in small tossed bunk- bed ! ffl I hear the mu ed tramp , tramp , tramp Th e night watch overhead . 52 B ush S o ngs an d Ove rse a V o ic e s

’ ’ Out o er the ocean s brink clouds rise , Like phantom mountains driven ’ A s though a door ope s silently

And shuts , stars steal in Heaven . Hark on the winds the cry ’Bout ship

The watch creep from below , L ike ghosts in oilskins , in moonlight Aloft they climbing go

Their figures clinging to the yards

as Move the grey sails flop , Their toiling shadows to the decks

Through moonlight softly drop .

But in their bunks for years , I know , ’ The Old Hands are asleep , ’ thund ri n The g seas above , and God The long night watch doth keep Bush S o ngs and Ov e rse a V o ic e s 53

A N E ! I LE ’ S DREA M S

’

OLD . dreams are dead , and blown life s magic rose As light of all dead women ’ s eyes

The winter sunset gleams , the starving crows

Are flapping home where daylight dies . Far off the deep - sea ships in twilight pass

- Like shadows down some magic mirror glass .

Heaven , send me dreams again of other lands , Where women fair and brave men roam Where love and hate clasped are fast by the hands e And sle ping lies my boyhood home ,

A s be d l by my the old torn novel ies ,

I s t wild romance behind my sleeping eyes .

Oh , let me hear the robin sing again , Wh ere sunset streaks the winter sky ! ’ And hear the old piano s strummed refrain . ’ Oh , ne er on earth , not till I die, r My soul will music touch and tu n to tears , Like songs remembered sweet of other years

’ H eaven send me love such as I ve known in dreams When winds and flowers with me did dan c e As sails at sea died down the sunset streams Bound for far shores of wild roman c e T c ill slept my hildish eyes , in bed upstairs ,

Loved by old heroes , dead a thousand years 54 B ush S o ngs an d Ov e rs e a V o ice s

Oh , maidens beautiful , in bed asleep , ’ Curl tween soft sheets , close your bright eyes .

Oh , wayward boys , dream on , in slumber deep ,

Your wildest dreams there realize . Let angels whisper ere unto your ears ’ The sweetest singer s song is full of tears .

’ Le t God s south wind kiss every wild flower dream That bloweth in sweet fields of youth And swallow - birds far down the valley gleam Ere wails the winter wind of truth ’ Ere woods lie hushed , and o er the sunset plain ’ The birds have flown that ne er return again . Bush S o ngs and Ove rs e a V o ice s 55

YESTERDA Y

To you , my saddest song I sing , A song weaved from the breath

Of all sweet birds that thrill the spring ,

And all the grey of death .

The calm , clear beauty of your eyes

Gleams far across the years , A tiny sparkling bridge of sighs — From now to boyhood tears .

ale Deep in my heart p flowers grow , S pring up in dreaming light ,

n And , shiveri g, softly burst and blow

- In tears of mist to night .

w e For years have flo n away, d ar girl , Since on your lovely h ead

Winds kissed each sunlit golden curl ,

And all our vows are dead . 56 B ush S o ngs and Ove rs e a V o ic e s

DRI FTING

MY soul , dear , as a star out Heavenward burning, h sea Sings doom as deep as t at unquiet ,

And , as a star in darkness far is turning

Out glad blue days , your eyes return to me . Blue shining depths of gladness to mine lifted ’ ’ As hung i mpassi o n d souls twixt Earth and Heaven i Oh, could the tide return that our lives dr fted And bring me to your arms again— forgiven !

L — eave faults asleep remember wild vows only,

- Oh - no w The blue gums , , the bush bird , years dead , ’ ’ mi rro r d ki ss d As in your eyes we , it lonely

Sang in the sunlit branches overhead .

The river in the hills still wanders , singing , s And , in tho e boughs by night the parrots sleep L Old ike my thoughts , the moonbeams , to leaves clinging ,

Reveal their frightened eyes as possums leap .

’ - No day breaks o er the hills of that sad dream land,

But from those boughs the birds awake and fly ,

No sunset falls , but on those hills I lone stand

And watch them down the skyline fade and die .

- w Thick overgro n , the shanty by the hillside

Still stands ! when through its doorless , moonlit room ’ The dead leaves fall, the creeping dingo s feet glide

Till sunrise streaks each day of changeless gloom .

58 Bush S o ngs an d Ove rse a V o ic e s

YE A RS PA RTE D

’ I ve loved and lost in this sad spirit sense ’ My dreams have blo sso m d as a field- wildflo we r S That breathes its fragrance to the oul Immense ,

Drops sodden in the mud in one brief hour .

was as God knows , my love once as pure this And steadfast as a star ’ s flame through the night

God knows , our lips met in one sacred kiss

Ere my star falling curved swept out of sight .

L ’ ’ ove s mystery I ve known , fair secret charms ’ And as death steals the loveliest of Earth s eyes Dissolving them to dust— from out my arms ’ Winds scat ter d her as dust beneath the skies .

’ I shall love her when o er the twilight falls ! b My soul will cling with trailing , eating wings

Among the stars till that lost voice soft - calls

My spirit through the dark from mortal things .

’ From men I ve sat apart stared at her book ’ One verse marked o ff that praised love s length of years ’ Who e er you are , may you , friend, never look Till words seemed blurred as gaze your eyes through

tears .

’ s H eav n w hi s Man houts of and hat soul is worth , ’ A s though God bargains o er some merchandise. I pray eternal life i s some sweet birth ’ — aw k ni n z a n Where my a e ggga e sees He v her eyes . Bush S o ngs an d Ove rs e a V o ic e s 59

’ ’ I ve felt love s wildest passion stir my soul,

As singing winds do bending moonlit trees . Wailed— as dead sailors ’ neath dark Ocean ’ s roll Tossed white hands to the moons of southern seas !

? And where are you fair image of lost Heaven , Your loveliness— ’ twas my soul and these eyes ’ ’ That fashi o n d Earth s wild - angel soft thing driven l — To my g ad arms out of dreamed Paradise .

’ s Can dreams forget , can you forget , twa I

Gazed in those eyes , with rapture, saw strange light Steal like sunrise across a midnight sky ?

a . Ah , God , the very st rs abashed took flight

Then , climbed the moon , peeped through that window

pane ,

’ Saw your face fast asleep on love s strong arm , Thick hair unloosed o ’er warm white bosom reign ’ As smiled your Sleeping lips through moonlight s charm .

Is sorrow one sad song of earthly things And trust in woman ’s love the dying day ? Are dreams sunsets soft - specked with curling wings Birds o ’er the skyline fading far away ? — Now like to swallows lost far out at sea , ’ I seek love s south , warm spirit eyes , true lips i i — ! And , as lost trembling b rds cl ng woe is me

.

With tiny feet to masts of passing ships ,

’ My thoughts roam o er the universe in vain

To find the splendour of some dream I knew ,

Out to the stars cling fluttering , till again — f My arms hold fast my loveliest dream o you . 60 Bush S o ngs and Ove rs e a V o ic e s

’ — I ve loved the stars and all those thing s that shine

With happiness of pure enduring light , Ere from your eyes across brief day of mine — s Clouds crept , hid starlit Heaven out of ight .

—m f And , now y very aith in God seems dead ! The music of my heart moans like the sea My Heaven - where slumbering lies my tired head A s . in a dream you come back , dear, to me Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rs e a V o ic e s 61

P A CI FIC I S LA ND S

! F IJ I)

’ ’ WE b ewilderd watched , , neath the pale moonshine ! ’ ’ mi rro r d The Bay s clear water mighty trees . ’ ’ Out o er the Shore s wild rampart curled the line The white - ridged line of long Pacific seas The fireflies danced across the still lagoons ’ a - flo ate d C noes dark o er pale mirrored moons .

sea e - Out on the pale rod our full rigged barque, ’ anch o r d s Fast , rocking to the winging tide The hanging topsails silvered in the dark ’ A s swun the - g poop lamp o er the wooden side .

f as We sni fed , like wine , up the shore we crept, ff Cool whi s of flowers from leafy damp glooms swept .

- We Sighted tiny huts , neath coco palms ,

Big native men , like black ghosts wrapped in towels ’ - Thro moonlight passed , we heard faint chanting psalms c Of ancient reeds , then silence brought the howls And beat of drums that told our wonderi ng ears Some warrior encored was by tribal cheers !

- a S Sea Far off, beneath the s iling outh moon ,

The boundless ocean crinkled . By dark caves All hurrying up the shore—where each lagoon a ra n n e Shone like mirror , the si ging wav s ’ ’ fri hte n d Like g children o er the reefs to peep , ’ w t r l a e s de e . All imaged, cur ing in still f p 62 Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rse a V o ice s

A s though space lay in miniature outspread U The niverses sparkling , dancing stars

F irefl - y swarms twinkled , where waved overhead Dark tropic palms by leagues of coral bars By leafy glooms and foams of Southern Seas ’ And like an Angel s flute blown in the trees ,

’ A night - bird s throat poured forth i ts lovely song

As on we crept ! the boatswain brave , ahead !

His pale bald pate in moonlight bobbed along , c The whole rew followed close , with noiseless tread , My shipmate Wells and I with tremulous mind — Both young together bravely crept behind !

Deep in the forest hid , big savage men By camp - fire s rose ! gleamed fiercely startled eyes !

- Wild women crept from out each bee hive den , Gazed on our faces white with glad surprise sat K Proud , the dark ing on his bamboo throne ’ A sailor s shirt about his bare limbs blown .

sat Three grim barbarians like long dead sages , L m ike ummy things ! in wrinkles deep , their eyes Gave wistful gleams— as though the dead dark ages On watch sat by that moonlit Paradise ’ Sat by a little fire neath three giant trees , ’ to uch Their bowed heads d their huddled thin bone knees .

- One strange old man on that dim , far off world Where round th e waves in moonlight ran up singing

Danced wildly, his thin legs oft Skyward hurled , ’ To chanting maidens bodies bare , arms flinging ,

His shadow in moonlight oft jumped about , Once thro ’ the forest height its head stuck out ! Bush S o ngs and Ove rs e a V o ic e s 63

Our old cook , through some strange drink maudlin drunk , Stamped with delight the leafy forest floor

Where girls , bare limbed , half rose in flowers , then sunk ’ Hi s ‘ ! big eyes stared , he shouted out Encore

- e l sat In royal nude state the old King fi rce y , i H s big fat feet spread on a little mat .

Like dead men on some unknown world we stood !

Brown girls in moonlight danced, their glimmering

eyes ,

- Whirled ghost like round the leafy solitude , They touched our shirted bodies with wild cries

- All joyous circling , clapped and danced again

- - To find us real, warm blooded sailor men

’ ’ Out flo pp d the sails . In shoals just o er the side Glad swimming eyes in sunset upturned gleamed Safe on those wave- washed backs their babes did ride n e By night did seem as though it had bee dr amed ,

Wild campfire and weird song of those far isles , ’ A s wailed the swaying sails o er lone sea miles . 64 Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rse a VOI ce s

S A M OA

I N the west the sunsets seaward Sink , Few sails fade over that ocean ’ s brink As Catamarans glide like ghostly wings as In moonlight, each cargo sings , Swarms of wild faces sailing along ’ O er the South Sea Bay chanting wild song

We anchored down by the still lagoons , — By the dark branched palms and mirrored moons !

- By the shore bamboos , where moved wild eyes ,

Peeping through leaves , bright with surprise .

Wild women ran from each secret den ,

- Admired , gazed at white sailor men .

A s - we crept up shores of mystic lands ,

se a - Our boots tossingsilver sands , Out in the lovely vault of night The South Sea moon was hanging bright ! Our shadows in still water glassed L as ike crowds of ghosts , crept we passed sat There in a space the old king ,

And women bare their legs did fling , Danced silently in pale moonlight A s Mile - End cheered with wild delight ! That old king’ s nose with grin immense

Did spread , revealed real innocence Hi s white teeth gleamed as all the crew ’ u — ti s Laughed lo der , still Heavens , most true , S Sea Up went her legs , the outh ! ueen ,

66 Bush S o ngs and Ove rse a V o ice s

H O MEWA RD B O UND

! CAPE HO R N)

WE - were thirty four, and one behind where the seas raved

overhead .

— - And his empty bunk a coffin seemed where his sea chest lay

instead . But we couldn ’t grieve for the slasher came and blew the main - mast out !

A s - they clung aloft , and the moon bright clouds were knocking the skies about ! w Six overboard the cook and the mate , and the stowa ay ,

young Jim . u How we reefed her p and we hove her to . On the heave ’ of a sea s ridged rim We saw white struggling hands go up ! then the moon smashed by a cloud Covered them down alive beneath the blind sea’ s lifting shroud ! ’ “ The Bo sun shouted , roared on the wind , clear the ” he tackle and though roared , c w His voi e hipped off like a pistol shot . Crash the crew

to the deck went floored ,

! sh e The mast clear , overside up came , in the hollows , wallowing righted ! Ah they were the boys for pluck , my lads , brave souls G o d that has knighted . And the mammoth seas o ’er the world came down ! the winds their backs astride Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rs e a V o ic e s 67

How they rose and moaned as the sailors cheered

n struggli g to get inside , A s the life - boat dropped ! Almighty Fate reme mbe r the dark sea grave ’ s If sailor forgotten, asleep , don t hear the last trump down under the wave

- Call first the plucky dead sailor men , why , even the cook ’ s mate cried

’ For an oar to save his swearing boss ! nearly jumpe d o er the bulwark side Then over the deck pale moonlight swept ! we saw the small life - boat rise And the figures of men out tossing beneath infinite

wind- whipped skies “ ” A n d the old man stood on the poop , hand arched , watched his brave wild children go s To the dark and the hriek of the ramping seas . How the fated ark winds did blow !

A s we heard faint cries from the vast blind night, and I often see the wind ’ s O er the dark imagination sea , drift stars of the nights be hind

’ O er sai lors asleep as over th eir heads the deep sea e clipp rs roam ,

’ O er the Life - boat men of our ship that turned— without them all crept home 68 Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rse a V o ic e s

THE CH I EF M A TE

’ MY ship s at sea , the sails outspread , the moon flies

backward overhead ,

The bow heaves up, the swell is strong , she broadside lies and skims along ! — fi ure - The g head with lifted hands prays on , the skipper staring stands — I In full View on the poop , beard white know the old ’ man s sad to night . ’ ” o ff The watch restless , cannot sleep , as roam their

bunks across the deep .

Some, whispering by the foremast , smoke , where wind ward booms each wild sea- stroke !

- Here , on the endless waters hurled , we are half way across the world ! ’ he s My mate , young Wells , on watch too, my nose and

ears sting , with cold blue .

i s This no Spanish Main , the breeze comes straight from icy Arctic seas !

We are both nervous , Wells and I ! there on the main

hatch it doth lie , ’ In canvas wrapt, the chief mate s length , devoid of light

hi s hi s eyes , strength

- Of limb and soul , and hand grip warm , all vanished from that silent form He jumped at sunset in wild seas to save a sailor ! grasped hi s knees I saw it all ! two struggling men together fighting wild

seas , when B ush S o ngs an d Ov e rse a V o ice s 69

They went beneath the hissing waves . By God ! the

- seas to day did rave ,

hi s e The skipper waved arms , and roared , the thund ring seas leapt up on board Like hissing fiends to stop the chase of comradeship with fli n chless face sat We , a lump in every throat, out there tossed in the

small lifeboat .

alo ne We brought that dead form back , the other one he had clean gone s The crew his order had obeyed, but like a sleeping child they laid Hi s we t head down ! hi s brave blue eyes looked through

their arms straight at the skies . ’ At sunset stood round pale with sorrow , they ll drop him over there to - morrow ’ And now the lone ship flies along , as swaying neath the stars in song e The sails are singing overhead , above the hatch wher

he lies dead . No wonder winds and sails fast flying sound something

like dead sailors crying . 7 0 Bush S o ngs and Ov e rsea V o ice s I N THE BU S H

’ I M the back in bush with a trustful chum , ’ With our drawing- room spread neath a gum I was sick of myself and evil ways And the splen did scheme that never pays i s 0 And life that made up , my brother, ’ Of one curs d thing and then another ’ Tis night and the forests sleep so still

If I climb up there on that little hill ,

And stand beneath those tall red trees , I can spot the far- o ff moonlit seas sk And the waves all tossing Splash the y, Where the full- rigged home - bound pitches b y

- There sits my chum , old sober side , ’ h ' l t e wh o e . We ve travelled, we two , world wide ’ He s - has thick necked , low , but he no fears , And hi s mouth as h e gapes ends near his ears ! A s we si t by this camp - fire blazing bright

Here where we need not be polite , And si t in a little chair upright To a guest that will call every night

Where no one bangs at your shanty door, ’ And growls , I ve been here twice before , And I don ’ t care a damn ’bout your good intent All that I want is my overdue rent

— e If he did th se hills are silent, deep,

The gullies dark by the moonlit steep , l And here you could kil a man outright , And no one know that he died that night ! Though he stood by your door a month Upright

Till he shrank and his clothes flapped in moonlight . ’ Oh ti s sweet to si t on this dead gum - log A s wa e th hi s — m he gg tail , my chum y dog Bush S o ngs and Ov e rse a V o ic e s 7 1

THE GO L D C O A S T

! HOM E SICK)

’ trO i c HERE, sweltering neath blue p Skies ,

For miles and miles deep jungle lies ,

L - ike big brown peg tops upside down , ’ just out there stands the black man s town . And men call this the Golden South No wonder I ’ m down in the mouth About five thousand hissing flies

- Swarm round my sun blazed , blinded eyes

t h - And houg the gold mines are round here , I ’d sell my soul for English beer ’ I ve sweated all night in these pants , Off You dare not take them ! the ants ,

The fleas , and awful crawling things , Creep ’ tween the sheets and flap their wings My body smarts now with their stings

e Hot fevers own this curs d place ,

Grip tight your throat , stare in your face , And through your frenzied brain all night Black devils leap with wild delight

Until you sleep, then from far lands , Stretched o ’er the seas come shadow hands And lips that kiss your fevered brow ! Ah , God to feel such kisses now

On that small steep , the red trees by , The dead white men all homesick lie ’ They cannot hear the tom - tom s tune 7 2 B ush S o ngs and Ov e rse a V o ice s

’ n By night, whe neath the Afric moon ’ - s as The black s blood curdling hriek , run

From jungles dark things one by one , In moonlight jump that silent steep li e i n Thank God, dead men deep sleep ’ There s something shouting in my head ’ ! Clear out , old man , before you re dead

And if when you all read these lines ,

N 0 ol d letter comes , and no signs , ’ L To tell I m back in ondon Town , You ’ll know they too have got me down

74 Bush S o ngs and Ove rse a Vo ic e s And am lying where round the cold wave cries A s my dead limbs lift with each deep tide rise .

Oh , maidens to grieve , unloved , come , creep

To the shore where the waters around me sweep , w And there dip your lovely warm , hite limbs ,

For dead eyes glide where the moonlight swims, And your prayers—will they all be dreamed in vain If a dead man i s love - thrilled again ? Bush S o ngs and Ov e rs e a V o ic e s 7 5

A WIN DY N IGH T

TH E wild - night seas are thundering in my little moonlit

room ,

All tossing , tossing by my lone bedside .

n Across the silent dreaming ight, deep moving waters boom , ’ - A s o er my head the wailing torn sails glide . Death ’ s hungering hounds are moaning on dark shores of starlit doom

For tired sailors on the ocean wide .

- me n n The sailor are clinging to the broken floati g mast, ’ Along Fate s phantom Shore the hounds still cry . As o verb o ards a one by one the , into the ocean c st , — In moonlight toss up white hands once and die .

The old ship trembling wails her lonely sinking cry at last , k The blind seas onward roll beneath the s y .

e Dawn cr eps along the sea skyline , the waves are all asleep f ’ ri h ten d . The stars steal g home, all creep indoors

A magic Shore is looming up across the eastern deep .

Where on the emerald waves bright sunrise p ours , The sinful Old Hands from the sea together huddled creep — ’ u . Half frightened p God s silent, unknown shores 76 B ush S o ngs an d Ove rs e a V o ice s

THE BRI DA L NIGH T

! H ER CONFESSION )

F OR b s ever warm and lovely are my lim ,

For him each secret white , caressing curve .

Within my chamber glass my image swims , A s love bewitched my limbs I sway and swerve , ’ s a To weeter show my body s b re outline , A ’ s thro my tumbling hair my pleased eyes Shine .

’ For ever young I ll be, , with warm desires ’

n . To be imprisoned in love s sweet , stro g arms I shall for him create from my soul ’s fires Hi s a image , or mine own , that his soul ch rms ’ I will curve these fond arms o er him by night , ’ m A s thro sweet dreams repose my war limbs white .

For him my rich red blood , my eyes , this hair, ’ Unloosed , dark tumbling o er my maiden breast, ’ — s Made lovelier for this thought he ll cla p me there , ’ Whene er at dawn our farewell lips are pressed . ’ Hi s bearded face I ll kiss when moonlight creeps — Hi s eyelids quivering as still on he sleeps !

! e e 0 Heaven I thank the that I liv , that I The thrill have felt thou hadst who sighed the Skies

s ! - sk ! O midnight tars unloved , big dumb struck y S so ince he praised light of my violet eyes , ’ ’ a as Where thro my soul s love ple sed , blushed the rain

Kissed to a rainbow by the sun again . Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rse a V o ic e s 77

o Heaven made me as I am , with r unded form , The splendid strength and frailness of the world

The universe I feel , of bright suns warm , Fl ashed out and sang bright thoughts thro ’ darkness whirled ’ to Thro love supreme , that found , that came bless

n God , brooding in eter al loneliness .

I do not fear the winds of heaven or sea ,

Those breakers tumbling shoreward , far away Or Him whose pale moon sheds beams silently ’

s . O er hills where dark , tall tree oft silvered sway

But those old ogres in the hills asleep , ’ Twere death if from their beds they did un le ap

’ o e r ee My silken robe falls as I lean , p p ’ My window open wide , thro lattice bars ’ Cool airs breath o er sweet - scented flowers asleep ’ a The cedars far beyond sway neath pale st rs ,

The thick leaves stir . Hush in cold moonlight dim ’ — O ti s A Shadow slips joy my love , him B ush S o ngs and Ove rse a V o ic e s

A S TUDY I N CO N TRA S TS

S M O E day I Shall command respect, With earnest eyes men will acclaim S ome Virtue mine , which to my shame

I s hidden by their sad neglect .

I shall be dead then , fast asleep ’ They ll shout and praise my published songs ,

Make wild romance of all my wrongs. will — My creditors hear and weep .

The friend who gave the loyal trust ,

o That in some weakness I f rgot , sa Will hear , and y, I hate him not Why hate a little bit of dust ?

’ ’ T - hey ll say , when stone deaf I m in bed , Though of their name I am the worst ‘ ’ He s dead , alas the best go first ’ True tis , the best men are men dead .

sha i e st f ri e nd My bb will knock the door ,

Be ushered in , in tears stand mute

Gaze round my room , spot my best suit

Depart , and will return no more

That night , around the festive board , ’ f With glee they ll stu f, then one will cough , ’ sa he s o ff And y, Poor chap , better ’ ? . I 0 Than we But shall be , Lord Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rse a V o ic e s 79 Kind words they ’ll publish o’ er my bones

Alas that I , who so much need Such praise cannot stand there and read I wish for births there were tombstones

To think , they who looked in my face

With calm contempt , will gaze with awe , ’ O All hushed , on me, who ne er nce saw Such looks in life for a scapegrace

sit Oh , to there with pride and share The pomp and state imperial

T - hat will attend my funeral . ’ They d bl ush wi th sha me to see me the re !

So not on Earth , but underneath , ’ ’ We re beautiful to eyes o erh e ad ’ Have all the Virtues when we re dead ,

f - i n - In li e walk arm arm with death .

So do I dream , in sad disguise ,

c - - Here in my atti room to night . My pinched face in that mirror ’ s light M oves with my hungry , restless eyes .

This crust of bread rn y wealth a lent

Felt hat unpawned my hope in gloom , ’ c s c c t wards As ti k the lo k changeless doom , T hat thumps and thumps my door for rent . 8 0 Bush S o ngs and Ov e rse a V o ice s

A BU S H GRA VE

I K N OW a grave down Murrumbidgee way

Alone within the hills where no one goes , Where years blow into sleep their leafy day !

- flo we r While overhead the bush wakes and blows , For spirit fingers Visit there with flo wers

’ - Where o er one faithful friend a blue gum towers .

’ sea- W And thro thick , leafy clumps by inds blown

Bright music of the woods with sunset dies ,

Till every wild musician home has flown , ’ ’ darken d sea- And o er the waves the gull cries , wa Where , like a tunnel y for realms divine, S Upon the waves the big moonrise doth hine .

’ Oft o er the Slopes the night winds wailing blow ,

- While parrots in the gum clumps roost asleep, And dark things in the redwoods flitting go ’ ’ Where possums thro the moonlit branches leap ! While in the lonely hollow by the sea

- Toils on the sweet night bird in melody .

s And when the gum in moonlight are all still, ’ And not a breath steals o er the scented foam Of forest leaves j ust by the seaward hill A ghostly camp - fire brightens our hut - home

Out on the slope once more the hammock swings ,

As in the shadows near he sits and sings .

8 2 Bush S o ngs and Ove rse a V o ic e s

ERE I A M OLD

E R Go d s D A , while flower and fields are

And all my dreams have wings , While in my soul to you far- soaring

A Skylark sings ,

My eyelids close in slumber gently , About my limbs enfold The silence of the buried age s

Ere I am old .

e — s Bring sl ep ere stars ing hopeless sorrow, While on the hedgerow spray The blackbird i s an angel singing

To me all day . — Death hold me tight , leave no escaping , Tight to my dead limbs cling ’ When swallows o er my grave , returning ,

Fly back to spring . B ush S o ngs an d Ov e rsea Vo ice s 8 3

I S H A L L DREA M A N D DRE A M

L I SHA L dream and dream , as the years fly by Till my eyes are otherwhere Hid i h the dark or ever so high

- shi ntn e Far g somewh re out there , sk Shining , shining , away up in the y

A s the stars go by .

I shal l dream and dream while the night winds Wild music out of the seas s d Sail un er the moon , as the old ships go ’ Thro the mists of memories .

I shall dream and dream this way, I know ,

Wherever I go .

I shall never be happy , rich , poor or sad , Excepting ’ tis in my dreams I shall tramp and tramp as I did when a lad O ’ er plains and by forest streams

As the world goes wailing , wailing , or glad , I shall be dreaming- mad !

’ ’ ! ’ Oh I m happy, I m King the world s mine

The things that dreams can dream , ’ — ’ I climb on God s shoulders He s not so tall . Till Hi s eyes in my own eyes gleam ’ si n So I m sorry for men who rise , and fall ll For I am them a . 84 Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rs e a V o ic e s

The man dead thousands of years ago , The w o man that loved hi s eyes The flowers that burst thro ’ their dead dust know For their breath on the wind still sighs w That I love old sorrows , they know , that I kno ,

All the long ago .

Sad — , beautiful women unloved long dead Eyes barren Of mother- light l Their unborn children cry, cur ed in my head ,

o ll S they kiss a the dreams that I write . They know I will kiss their dead lips instead ’

I n e . dreams , when I m d ad Bush S o ngs and Ov e rse a V o ic e s 8 5

RHYME S OF A BEA C H - C O MBER

! A VOI CE F ROM SAMOA)

PAR T I

COME , follow me friends , by the still lagoons m c And the idnight dan e by the waving palms , men Your white ! long missing), here singing tunes ’ They dance with delight in the brown maid s arms .

Or fighting like Hell shoot the black dragoons . ! c Oh the death s ream , faint ! the drum beat alarms

Of the ambushed tribe blown far out to sea ,

Commercial eyes , cold eyes come follow me

- Come , follow me friends , in my rhymes to night ’ Creep out from your cities ten thousand walls . ’ ’ Oh , I ve sailed the seas , and such songs I d write , ’ Ti s the wild bird song of my soul that calls , And the stars and moons of a world ’s delight

Of my wildest dreams . As the warm wave falls ’ af ll ar, I At my feet on this Isle _ say ’ And Sing you the songs of the world s highway .

Come , follow me friends , be my comrades brave ,

Remember my song , whenever it sneers , From my native Isles to the South Sea wave T here are souls that sneer to hide their tears . ’ I ve And loved sweet winds , and the storms that rave ’ ’ In man s heart , that breathes God s truth in our ears . ’ ’ From this lone sea - Isle tis a man s voice calls ’ ’ c l s blacken d s. I , the hild of your own and wall 8 6 B ush S o ngs and Ov e rse a Voic e s

se a Oh , waves cry on by the rugged Bay , ! Sails flap overhead , Oh marvellous stars , v Fore er, forever shine on far away,

c - r Shine, down the lagoons by oral eef bars ,

Oh , mountains , inland , vast Gods , kneeling pray ’ In moonlight neath skies , as the cloud rift mars as Bright , lonely sea isles , palms , moveless paint — Coloured oils till shore waves tossing , break faint

Up shores , dim sleeping mysterious lands , sea Like altars where waves arriving , cry , ’ Time s homeless children toss your white hands , Knock the dark cave doors outside ’neath the sky I the As I watch by the palms where dark shore stands , White ne cks from the o cean arise waili ng die !

Sink back to the depths , lift white arms and fall — As I dream and again comes back the call ,

S tarboard , All Hands , as soft pattering feet, c Clambering bodies to the de ks , fall , leap ,

As the western eyes , and the wild eyes meet o Like phantoms come out from the sh res of sleep , Cha nting wild song till they joyously greet ! Sailors they fall , lithe sea daughters brown In the amorous arms of old London Town

a a ea I am the Laureate of these wild South Seas First Court Music ian to the Royal throne ! I ’ve played the fiddle as gi ant forest trees f ll ’ fit u c . Wailed y, night s grand or hestral moan sea c My comrades danced a jig , sang hanties ! d Wild men elighted , blessed each silver tone . o t c Whirled round and round the old king g ex ited ,

d u - His fat lips touche my head , I rose p knighted Bush S o ngs an d Ove rse a V oi c e s 8 7

Dark e ye s of savage women at my face

- e- e Gazed rough haired girls , bar limb d crept to my side ! And b eautiful are eyes wherein you trace

The wild flower innocence of mountains wide . ’ s a u . Twa night, their ears c ught tr e the rhythmic pace

n My fingers fast the fiddle stri gs did glide .

They danced , their shadows whirling in moonlight , ’ - Neath forest trees , dark phantoms of delight .

The ! ueen nude on a stump, austere , amazed ’ o er k Red Shawl upblown s inny bosom bare , l u And shrivelled thighs revealed . Eye ids praised

Gave gleaming twinkles , faith , a noble pair

That Royal twai n . Oft have I been much praised ’ By kings and queens of other lands, but ne er, ’ so I ll swear , have seen much of Royal state , n More than my rough rhymes smoothly ca relate .

In dreams I see the long shore line lagoons ! ’ Beech - combers creeping thro tracks of moonlight — b Between drinks y the sweltering hut saloons . Once more I hear shouts o ’er the wondrous night e By magic s as , dark palms, pale mirrored moons ,

- And swarthy men , a semi human sight

i - Brown figures in short sh rts , belts , clubs , sheaf knives ,

- — And curved limbed women , bare as poles their wives

’ l ancho r d Our wooden Sloop ies in the Bay , Warm night - airs ruffle sails to windy song ! The moonlit shining waters imaged sway Decks where our figures stealing move along ’ s The skipper s drunk , a leep We row away , Creep up dark shores with tattooed men we throng a In starry v ult across the forest height , e o The lovely South S a mo n is hanging bright . 8 8 B ush S o ngs and Ove rse a V o ice s

A dim enchanted land , moonlit trees singing, And tossing white - armed waves far seaward playing The stealing night winds ghostly voices bringing

Of drunken traders , as brown maidens swaying ,

Dance by their huts , bare arms and lithe limbs flinging , c Big chiefs to an ient gods , with much zest praying

In huddled rows ! as from the small Hut Town ,

Toward the beach wild men creep up and down .

All long ago , but still the past camp fires ’ Are b urning brightly thro old dreams again

As native girls , like ghostly things on wires Are dancing ’neath the palms and moonbeam rain ’ And in their arms each holds her heart s desires

d - The runken trader sailors , and like pain For what has been the winds stir all the trees

That keep old secrets of these island seas ,

’ And sighs my song, for tis a tuneless tongue T ’ hat cannot sing of love . Who e er has roughed The lands beyond the harbour foams , and sung The spicy sweetness of a mummy stuffed ? ’ ’ Ne er felt life s splendid blood thrills , being young,

Oh , youthful eyes make haste ere sprouts the tuft ’ sad Life s three grey hairs , cold eyes , and bald head We ’re virtuous long enough— when we are dead

Awake for morning flowers the hour of bliss ,

Smile , banish withering dreams of palsied age You will die youthful by remembering this ’ - You are your Heaven , and Hell, on life s stern page , The wisest , saddest thoughts are those, I wis , e That we ourselves have writ . I am the Sag ’ ’ Of sorrows o er seas , lands neath many skies ! — So pra ctise what I preach were I as wise !

9 0 Bush ! S o ngs and Ove rse a Vo ic e s

Three men dead lay stuck in my leg a spear !

c Fier e , savage hags clawed like wild forest cats ’ The Bo sun yelled when one bit o ff his ear They scampered off in shoals like mammoth rats W Deep in the moonlit forest . White ith fear ’ Lao eta s was lover , as flapping bats ’ o erh e ad In droves squeaked disappointed tones ,

c - To be denied his roasted , lean picked bones They were the good old days of these South Seas sl Ere missionaries came and made them y,

And by their huts , a , Bible on their knees, Vi llai nI e S sk Plan out old beneath the y, L ove ancient gods , sneak off on secret sprees , “ ” Shout out, Me Christian man , roll up each eye, Cook their old mother to a turn— say grace t c Eat her, wi h kindly eyes look in your fa e

’ ’ l o afin I ve seen them g neath the tropic sun , ! By their small huts , sprawled bodies bare as eggs ’ o n e Mong bamboos sitting, yawning , by one

Brown girls and boys outstretch their long thin legs ,

Bask in sunlight , as romping round would run ’ Plump tiny kids , they d stiff their calves like pegs ,

Dive in the Bay like frogs , back from the sea ,

Head over heels , come laughing merrily .

My c hum and I oft got those boys and girls

Out on the seaward slopes and started races , Bright scrambling eyes—small teeth like rows of pearls

To win the prize uplifted to our faces . ’ ” Galo o ta - flashe d s I d shout , whiz , dark sun curl ,

c Bare flying legs of girls , outdid the pa es — Of boys , and won the button treasured prize ’ - They d gaze up in my face with Christ like eyes . B ush S o ngs an d Ov e rs e a V o ic e s 9 1

S m te are these Isles in ways of etiquette , full Waistbelts , sheath knives , no pants , means court dress

e Whit traders in saloons drink , swear and bet , ’ Their beards brush o er big broad chest nakedness . With fearless eyes they lie— I ’ ve seldom met

Such downright brave heroic carelessness . ’ Or seen me n o er their shoulders spit so true

f an d . As shu fling cards , some listen , yarn chew

S The High Courts of South eas held are by night , The scales of justice are bright shining flocks

Of eyes , and clubs in hands that itch to fight . The ravished daughter in the witness box

Naked stands the trader bound , face ashen white , c — Meets doom , as crash the stern judge lub whiz knocks Off The skull right , and if the body stands

Still upright loud the praise of clapping hands .

’ I ve seen them by moonlight race for that head , uf th e Like scrambling ghosts , p f leap silent night , ’ c As white footballers do , tis aught and led

From hand to hand tossed high . A ghastly sight ! ’ I do admit . Alas but when all s said The c judge of my own land , rowned with wig white , ’

c ca . In style , with death s bla k p, does just the same r o For me , I much prefe the f otball game

Real South Sea chivalry is on the wane , T o r c hey do not spear lub you by daylight , But secretly get back their own again The On moonless nights . good old honest fight 9 2 B ush S o ngs an d Ove rse a Vo ic e s

’ O er ra vished daughters smarts still in the strain

Of tattooed men , with eyes that hate men white ’ - Some dyed , disguised , old England s long missed wrecks , They left their native land to save their necks

o n Just r und the forest be d some sleeping lie ,

- bli nd' drunk h Died , dead , or in some wild nig tmare ’ ’ sk ? O er what old crime , neath their far native y Hot fever- stricken souls they to the air ’ Escaped life s doom . Oft when the forest sighs can You hear wails by moonlight of despair, ’ As dead white men o utbound o er barrier- foams On seaward flight flee—bound for English homes

’ There s caste the same here as my Western nation ,

They strut with pride if they possess a shirt .

Old Mango owns a copra , Yam Plantation ’

hi s . His brother s fishing , to eyes are dirt — ’ Hi s wife one garment wears tis a temptation ’ — she It s name to mention Heavens , looks a flirt ’ h . S A trader s white wife lost them uch a sig t,

White frills to brown knees , baggy, at waist tight .

sl ch Stern y old iefs slink by her , gaze sideways To see her plump brown limbs exposed to view Through frills pure white ! With down cast modest gaze

just as stage beauties of my country do , When in their tights they bow as men loud praise ’ - sh e , By her hut door ! stands neath skies of blue

As envious eyes , for miles the old tribes come

To se e — winds fill them out big , like a drum

’ n I k ow a South Sea queen , her soul s turned white , She ’s eaten men— old passion fires now smoulder Her tattooed limbs once made the b ig chiefs fight ! B ush S o ngs an d Ov e rs e a V o ic e s 9 3

' ’ A o ne b y, y one they ve had her , bought and sold her

To comrades when they sickened of her sight . ’ an d She s pious , Virtuous , calm , sedate older ,

a - Sits by her hut, we rs pince nez , wrinkling , fat , — Stuck on her head a large Parisian hat !

b ut One night old Gambo crept to her side , i ts By small door we stole like creeping mice , ’ saw i We peeped , we her squatt ng , eyes ope d wide , Her wrinkled face the breathing map of vi ce

She smiled , her figure nude surveyed with pride .

e . in My foot Slipp d Heavens I cursed , for a trice ! z Bang , crash a club whi zed by my peeping head, — sat ! Her husbands three awake , up in bed

’ ’ By faith , I ll ne er forget that breathless race, A s down the Slopes old Gambo came behind ,

ufli n Hot, p g, wild with fear to keep the pace ,

In South Sea lingo giving me his mind . — Heavens ! how he ran and me - I could just trace — Sea- breakers rolling i n moonlight defined ’ o ff Far , tis ever on my mind engraved — — ! That night our boat , wherein we jumped both saved

PAR T II ! SAMOA)

Brave R . L . S . sleeps up there in the tomb ! ’ i n H s soul s poetic fire in moonlight singi g , A s long Pacific breakers beat their doom

’ O er barrier reefs , wild forest birds are flinging

i s. se e hi s H s music to the wind I room , 94 Bush S o ngs and Ov e rse a V o ic e s His bent form reads—Alas how memory ’ s bringing

Back olden days , till flowers and moonlit trees ’ Are waving thro deep forest memories .

fire - fli es l While dance in bunches by agoons , Along deep shoreline glooms oft twinkling gleam

Like Universes sparkling , singing tunes Immensity squeezed in some tiny dream — He sleeps for ever where grave flowers are moons Froi n lands afar and Time ’s strange stealing stream

Blue tropic days , and stealing stars behind Migrating o ’er the universal Mind

” Three waters stands still by the forest there ,

Men came from other lands across that Bay , w Old elcomed friends , ere as immortal air

- - Upon the Great Trade Wind he sailed away . At dusk Samoan chiefs round here declare i ts When sunset seaward steals dying ray , He Sits down shoreward gazing tenderly

Fast voyaging dreams his eyes far out at sea .

Still to this beach the traders come and go ! And shouts of sailor- songs of many lands Drift on warm winds as flapping to and fro ’ Sails gleam o er ships deserted by all hands A s in the phantom light I gaze below , See Shadows move where each small beach hut stands

Groups of wild women move , spank their plump brats All running round in moonlight like big rats

’ m a H m a ma R . L S s. a o n o . V ili , . S e Bush S o ngs and Ov e rse a V o ic e s 9 5

se a l The miles geam , a shining mirror glass

Of stars , as curling waves out shoreward rise ’ as And break , neath the white sea moon doth pass T h e sleepless frigate bird , I see bright eyes M — Al y old friend , Pombo by me stands as ’ He s dead, I know , but still his spirit sighs

c hi s Here by my side , and still I lasp hands , o n My dear brown friend go n e to his shad w la ds .

’ Twas Pombo watc hed when stern chiefs lay asleep Sh e And round her tent peeped , my South Sea maid ,

- Dark velvet eyes , smooth limbed , brown bosom deep ! h Her scant attire , a white loin clot , betrayed

Her modesty . How fast my heart would leap fla ed ! If night birds pp I need have been afraid , i n I knew brown men white men had small faith , Once caught I was quite sure of certain death !

We still for ever stand on those night steeps , Like images of stone clasped in moonlight

In perfect stillness , gazing down twin deeps ’ The Each other s eyes moon enchanted night,

The windless seas , pale stars , still breathless sleeps

Round that love scene , though years have taken flight , While cities rise our eyes stare ’neath palm trees ’ n S Amazed Shine eath the stars of outhern Seas .

’ see I the silent forest track tis night, e The shadows round about us trembling cr ep , ’ - The pale moon brightens o er the dark branched height , ’ A s n o er the forest lanes ight winds oft sweep ,

In front they steal , before our watching sight,

Sad tiny shadows from the shores of sleep , Our unborn children creeping—lover’ s sighs Across the moonlit track before our eyes 9 6 B ush S o ngs an d Ov e rse a V o ice s

’ Her spirit li ve s o n i n my loveliest dreams

n She lies alo g this shoreline , somewhere , dead

We were , both boy and girl , then came the schemes — Of traders , and She fell God bless her head . S Old Pombo led me by the forest treams , By night we stood beside her moss- grey bed

The earth I kissed , her dead lips sighed beneath , ’

W W s . Stirred moonlit flowers , here crept a ind soft breath

M s y senses knew the mystic land of dream , The dark - branched moonlit forest of the brain Sighed noiselessly o ’ er singing stealing streams Of God ’s strange music threading thro ’ the pain

Of far off lands , beneath forgotten gleams i n Of other stars , heard my head the strain Of breakers beating ’ gainst Eternity In one swift magic flash of light in me

’ I heard sweet- spirit lips o er memory sigh And exiled music moan o ’er hills of pain ’ Forgotten moonlit seas tossed neath a sky — ’ Of brilliance God s creating starry Brain

I half remembered ere that flash did die , Pale mortal faces— that I ’ve met again

Dead sailors climbed aloft , glad , singing tunes

’ ’ O er seas of other worlds neath lovely moons -x -x -x as

’ — They re virtuous now wild men by moonlit caves

The missionaries came , reformed the race, For true it i s that dead men b y the waves Of this fair Isle as ghosts crept by the grace Of gospel into Hell — o ’er paths man paves

With good intentions Gone the good old days , H s omesteads are graves , forgotten dead desire ’ Of long dead women s eyes by bright camp fires .

9 8 B ush S o ngs and Ove rse a V o ice s

’ Who e r you are , who reads my rhythmic air ’ ’ Of life s stern strain , believe me tis no song ’ Of wild romance , sincere enough , I ll swear,

That thousands died , and all will die ere long , Through Western virtue And I too declare ’ Light throws deep shadow o er the world , flashed wrong The Western creed in South Seas is that paint — That blushes till the whore looks like a saint . ’T ’ is not for me to judge men s ways and stand, ’ Heaven knows , in after years gainst this palm tree ,

Tug at my beard , condemn my native land . see But to ope books , with eyes astonished ’ — Hell s dubious Virtue praised ye gospel band ’ I ll swear your South Se a secret preaching spree Rewarded was you know beneath the palms The native girls danced singing in our arms

“ r o ne The e was Le Grande , the best of you all ,

th e Fine eyes he had , and though king of liars, ’ In all our yarns , and smokes , I ne er recall ’ One impulse that betrayed life s mean desires .

He caught the fever, died , went to the wall ’ I ve searched your books , until my sad soul tires , ? For word of him Yet , why begrudge you praise We all enjoyed o urselves i n those old days

and. Ah , years have flown , from my heart the dream

Of warriors and fair women and sweet lore, ’ T c hat boys drink from life s wild , romanti stream ,

- All swallowed by the dust , drought stricken shore ” The never never land, where flowers but gleam

Out of dust , gently buried , where no more fl a s Eyes ash with light , flowers grow overhead — The only flowers we know where men lie dead . Bush S o ngs and Ove rs ea V o ice s 9 9

fli nchle ss Yet live ye warriors old, stare eyes Your eager faces lift in pale dreamli ght

Of unknown lands , whereon that hero dies — With smiling lips strikes o ne brave blow for right Out of dim magic starlit - foams arise ’ ’ Ye women beautiful , thro passion s night ’ lo veli t e Bend o er me with warm ey s , as soars ’ My soul o er seas of undiscovered shores

’ Of wild romance ! as o er the South Sea Bay

Dark waters brighten , and the lovely stars Al l fade with stealing dawn , like faith away,

- And out of Village huts by coral bars , S Sea a ! The outh children rush , eyes d rk, some grey Half- castes of gospel - men and brave jack Tars s The western creed expressed , plump tiny tract

All romping on the Slopes with white- splashed backs

’ While in far cities , men strive for life s good . e In their cathedrals vast , d ceived some sit A n d dream their windy - song is soothing food ’ - L — Babe like suck ife s Old Dummy void of wit , Nor hear cries of the cities ’ solitude — i t At their own doors , pinched bellies think of ’ The hungry urchins neath their we t grey skies ’ - God s tiny trembling prayers with wistful eyes . I OO Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rs e a Vo ice s

A FTER M A NY YE A RS !THE SON)

OH - , give me green hills and cottages , the mill wheel

whirling round , And the bright birds warbling soft on shower- wet trees By the South Coast sunlit scented pines and the rumbling

breakers sound ,

A s - the deep sea ships creep home from distant seas , Where I may dream my dreams of home by the wash of

the Channel waves . S When sunset floats with the abbath tolling bell, Go over the b ills to where they sleep in their long - neglected

graves , — — And feel what a boy grown old now cannot tell . ’ Far from the sound o f the sto ckwhip s ring and the lyre bird’s sunset strain

A s trO i c sun - sea the p sinks down the world wide , That takes me round with i ts stealing light to my English land again m A s the bright Australian stars creep over e .

For my eyes are wet with tears for things I never can recall, ’ se t For the hopes on my young life s strength of limb , And the wild will ways of other days that made them after all

Si t by their fire and dream with eyes aswim .

' so a e clifls And , I will steal b ck again to wh re the high white

Are kissed by the English Channel singing waves . ’ —m I ll creep up the hills , then go to God y soul to the s stars ome night , — And lie asleep where men have made their graves .

Bush S o ngs and Ove rse a V o ice s

’ ’ A nd in those waters o er and o er

I dived in vain , then cried For misery on some lone shore

With no one by my side .

so s e And for year I wandered, fri nd , Sought love and wealth alack

Roamed distant lands , and in the end

Brought this one sad song back . Bush S o ngs and Ov e rse a V o ic e s I o 3

O UTWA RD BO UND

’ ' ’ o fl! I M outbound o er wide blue seas . Farewell , ye unpaid bills ’ e f - Gr at heaven , I ve swallowed seas of stu f, ship loads of oil and pills ’ For mist and rain crept in my bones neath English skies , but I

Wish you good luck , old country, and brave Englishmen , good - bye !

- i n Farewell , old fenced woods , dead dreams , primroses , and bluebells

e - Farew ll , ye city alley ways with your suspicious smells ! ’ Old Farewell , Shivering Fleet Street moths , by London s splendid bars ’ I m bound for boundless plains lit by the everlasting

stars . e ! Resp ctability, farewell Oh , God be thanked , tweed suits f Hide skeletons in top hats , starved , that shu fle round in

boots , ’ o ut a Ring my soul one real wild cry to touch a nation s e rs , — ’ Sing me to wealth my dear old rhymes awake a n ation s cheers ! ’ re fle sh s I would old skeleton , I d stand them all upright , S ’ tick new eyes in , in rows they d stand , God laughing at

the sight , ’ — Would be my critic, and I ll swear review my songs all

right . I o 4 Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rse a V o ic e s

e S sad s Old Fl et treet relics , think of me when your eye you raise ’ A s down you swallow beer and wail o er tho se old better

days .

s s Maybe I too shall dream of you , and mis your tale of woe !

as Will find my golden age , now , in dreams of long ago , — — For while I rhyme these lines who knows some rhymer o ’ er the seas L En lan dwards i s as ooks g , cursing scenes the same I curse these ! ’ ’ A s nation s curse , that built the world , my England

noble pride , ’ Where d be the brave old pioneers if home smells satisfied ? They ’ve broken up the wooden ships and blazed them in hearth fires To warm the dreams of English boys who cherish se a

desires , ’ Ye figure - heads that roamed neath stars to - night a city

roars , Where curled the singing waves to spray on undiscovered

shores . ’ sad s s o er And now your old face tare, streets where f tra fic streams , When by the Thames the same old moon pours down i ts

wistful beams, I ’ve watched your upraised hands pray on across the m oonlit ridge , — Voyaging seas in dreams acros s Westminster b y the Bridge ! ’ - s Your sailor men , who ang aloft they re dead , or may, alas !

o 6 o and e e a o e I Bush S ngs , Ov rs V ic s

’ ’ I ll creep up the slopes a happy man who has found life s

one true worth , m My best friend all the world, I will i paradise the earth . ’ ’ ll uil a I b d tiny wooden house , it must be neath some

s tree , Where I can watch the silvered waves of tumbling moon lit seas

A nd e and if ver I dream of cities far, I cannot close my

eyes ,

A s the e n out in sil nt forest depth the wild dog , waili g ,

cries , Till the laughing voices of dead men sad haunt my sleep s les brain ,

With stern deliberation I will rise and heal my pain . I ’ll lean o ’ er my bed and take strong pulls at the bottle ’ that there I ll keep , A nd find the golden age again in draughts of vintage deep , k ’ Oh, I now that only one wind blows the dead man s soul sea to , ’ A nd e wherever it blows , oh , what car I , since God s hand fashioned me

On the last foothold that earth man gives , where the day

to night doth change ,

A s stars come creeping Silently over the last dark range . ’ I ll stand on that last grand silent peak , brave , into the

sunset dive , ’ ’ For I ve loved God s gift of life as much as any man alive !

I I o B ush S o ngs and Ove rse a Vo ice s

! e e s e we Ah th y wer the days of dreams , my lad , wh n ’ hadn t a cent in hand, And we tramped two kings of the Overseas passing from land to land ’ So we the , I can t get over the curse of things , for liked

world all right, ’ e e Were happy together wher ver we went , and I m lon ly e no ugh to - night — Eternity laughing out sun s with glee i nfini te waste in S pace !

e the s r Time writing th se wrinkles , making map of o row over my face Hi m— e sea back in the dark , down und r the lying alone

stone dead , A nd a million million worlds to - night shining over hi s

he ad . Bush S o ngs and Ove rse a V o ic e s I

THE BU S H M A N ’ S REVERI E

HE will not come again , my chum , by night !

Hark winds are flapping round my cabin door ,

And waves are tossing up the white moonlight , A ll toiling up the dark wild lonely shore .

There are his boots , and on that peg his hat , Hi s fiddle on the wall , forever still

c And on that stump , where yarning , on e he sat, — The moss has grown out on a windy hill , H i s a sw g beneath his head he silent lies , ’ Where o er flowers blow as blue as were his eyes .

’ I ve often seen him since he died , just there On that dead stump whereon the fire - light falls !

Dream eyes in Shadow , with his crossed arms bare

Upon his breast , when in the hollow calls ’ The lonely dingo for a mate , I ve heard

Him call my name by night , when all was still , His voice die with the song of some sweet bird ’ — w . Out in the hollow , o er the s amp oak hill

The Bush flowers in the hollows are awake . Stars flash across the windy silent skies The waves like tumbling silver tossing break

Far out at sea fringed by the curved moonrise .

That dead gum rotting on the shore alive , All night stands swarmed with coloured breathing

flowers , But when I stand below at dawn I ’ll drive 1 1 2 B ush S o ngs and Ov e rse a V o ic es — The roosting parrots up i n fluttering showers And so by night I dream at break of day

My thoughts from out my head all fly away .

’ Below the redwood heights by night we d race ,

Astride the saddle , tossing side by side , ’ - e c Damp wattle scent whiffs st aling o er ea h face, The stars in heaven our romping way would guide ! A S though Creation dreamed a world , moonrise ’ - Would flower like burst, night s wild dark mystery And mountains ’ silvered peaks and palms ari se w ! From range to range , slo , grand and silently

The bush - bird in the scrub would wake and sing As thumped the echoing hoofs the night along ! ’ The white moon o erhe ad touching everything ’ O er velvet slopes we ! I shout some wild sea - song The echoes o ’er the plains would rise and fall b As though dead voices somehow had come ack , ’ - ! One for the other, o er night hills did call ’ - As life , full blooded , raced God s living track . A ’ y, long ago , and now an old man s brain e IS dreaming by the moaning , unqui t sea ! ’ Like old crows flapping thro the mist and rain , astward My thoughts are stealing p , far from me ,

Round sunsets dead , in silence winging flit , th e —I i t As on this stump huddled past s .

as -x a as A1

There soundly sleeps my dog . He does not know

’ curl d He will not always be there , by me , — S - fire lo w nug at my foot while burns the camp . I am a god to him in his dog world

I would not lay my foot upon his head,

1 1 4 Bush S o ngs and Ov e rse a V o ice s

CO M RA DES

! N O R TH ! UE EN S LAN D)

The last lone ride I live it again ,

- Lost , alone on the drought swept plain , The grey - green gone from the scattered s crub

The frogs stink , dead in the dry creek mud sk Away in the y on southward flight ,

Far specking the waste of blinding light ,

The parrots are curling their glittering wings , Soft - croaking their dismal mutterings By the small hot sun in fleets they pass sk s Where the wide y flames like molten glas , ’ On crawls the horse o er the trackless track , The rider scorched on its blistered back I W A castaway on ide , waveless seas .

Miles , miles away rise gaunt gum trees , d c o ld Like ereli ts , with sailless mast , ’ Cast on the rocks by the drought s hot blast . — The sun dies down o u the dim Skyline Faint - twinkles once like a goblet of wine ’ Held over that dead world s hazy rim , And the lost man ’ s eyes far gaze aswim As the tide of dark rolls over hi m T ’ here s hope for a tiny cloud doth rise , T oils Slowly across the noiseless skies ,

Creeps down to a speck on the other side , To leave him alone on the desert wide ! ’ — Tis night overhead the bright stars creep , Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rse a V o ic e s

He lies with hi s one friend down to sleep And the months and the years have since rolled And the horse and the master still there lie ’ Where those sad eyes of hope peered thro The —A green shoot peeped Bush flower blew , e s For we found them there , y , side by side — Two Skeletons white just as they died ,

Our hearts were heavy as on we went , For his thin bone arm was softly bent Curled round the neck of his big comrade

There , telling us how two friends had laid

- Had died there under the drought swept sky ,

And still out there the white bones lie . 1 1 6 Bush S o ngs and Ove rse a V o ic e s

THE DRO UGH T ! AUSTRALIA)

’ the Old I ll tell you a tale of days , out on the North West Way ! A gallop of three wild hundred miles to the tree - frogs roundelay men Under blue space , soft specked with birds , two fast rode along The great bush sang with a thousand throats her lovely

evensong . S unset soft fired the dark range pines , faint blazed with

gold , blue peaks ,

- — And the marsh frogs opened their overtures sat lea ves in

the swampy creeks ,

A s s - the hollow wild of the great night way , led by one pale star

- e Like mast head light of beating barque , behind thr e bare

pines far, Came flowing fast with their dusky waves over the Eastern

Bar .

R o llo - e rollo - e t p p , p p , rop , rop , hey thumped the silent

night , Beating the mould and scented scrub out under the red

wood height . s Giant ancient gums , memorials of brooding summer past ,

Dim outlined in primeval gloom , with outspread aged arms

s va t, ’ A ll s solemnly tood , on each side oft God s lamps brightly flashed

1 1 8 Bush So n gs and Ov e rsea Vo 1 ce s

’ Telling , with awful silent voice , their riders inward dread . ’ L sea ike a tropic windless silent , Heaven s endlessness did shine

A mighty trackless molten waste , till on the far skyline ,

sea- w- th e Like some lone lost raft , a cloud , slo crossed dread waste wide

L . ike white tossed hands last seen at sea , hope rose once

sank and died ,

A s helpless by the desert swamp , thick spawned , hot

fevered , rank ,

With lips to the blue mud , all quiet , knelt and drank ,

drank , drank . ’ hush d The very frogs stunk dead around , the hills seemed ablaze !

The sun crept out , a drop of blood , low in the westward

haze .

’ ’ The tethered steeds moaned by all night , thro one man s ’ fe ve r d sleep , ’ Blue English skies crept o er that wild , lone Australian

steep . The swallows in the valley fle w across a phantom bay

Grey seagulls came on tireless wing, in silence swept away . L ’ ike dying bells , dream floating , o er dead sunset waves

of time , — Came mellow tones to slumbering ears i t was the bell bird’ s chime ’ - O er wind cooled gullies drifting , the stars all home had

crept . ’ — e They gazed within each other s eyes nor one word spok , but leapt t Astride the saddles , reared each horse, impatien of delay With voice half human whinnied once to si lence sped away Bush S o ngs an d Ove rse a V o ic e s 1 1 9

’ —a — dro d i Into the night y, long ago they pp where no b rds

sing . And o ’ er their bones the desert wind a shroud of dust doth fling

l a While in the ho low just below , st nds , where warm , white

mists fall ,

— a Where no one goes stump and on , his age and name ’ that s all . 1 20 Bush S o ngs and Ove rse a V o ice s

THE DES ERTE D H UT

! ! UEENS LAND)

WOE , woe , old mare , tread gently here , where once a camp

fire blazed ,

And some tired Bushman sat and dreamed alone,

These were his old ancestral halls , and time has nearly razed

’ o e r ro wn With rotting damp , his roof with flowers g , Whereo n moonlight half- ghostly falls as I sit dreaming

here,

Astride the saddle gaze with living eyes ,

Stare at this relic of the past , for in the hollow near, Th ’ e . bush flowers only wake , o er where he lies

Hark , how the winds sad music make , where wave the ’ gums o e rh ead.

n And wattles stir, where swi gs his small hut door .

- As like a ghost , a shadow thing seems to and fro to tread , o Where flowers in moonlight shiver on his flo r . How dark and still the gullies sleep while miles across the plains w - Of this ild God forsaken land, the trees L ’ ike skeletons wave neath the stars , loosely I hold the

reins , — While heaven pours on us both cool whiffs , the breeze .

’ ’ Twas hot , phew in the blinding sun brave horse you ve done your best ’ w With those tired legs , toiled thro this s eatingday

1 2 2 Bush S o ngs and Ove rse a V o ic e s

’ Who e e r h e was , on windy nights in that small bunk he

Slept , hi His blanket drawn tight round s living frame . ’ l hi s Whi e in the hollow o er grave undug , the dingo crept ’ — and so o He dreamed t night I ll do the same , — i o , Nor will he mind for such is l fe , to ride up here t night t While ou side in the cold , he slumbers on , r To camp awhile , to smoke and d eam , then vanish with the light

For with sunrise , we , too , shall both be gone . Bush S o ngs and Ove rse a V o ic e s 1 2 3

BU S H LON E LI NES S — I am not what I was the world so dark is .

Across my heart the cold rains fall , The birds of life that sang are songless

After all .

i s s My camp fire in the bush lowly dying , The forest moan i s all I hear !

o My dog , the nly friend that loves me I s sitting near .

w - fires - Like ild where gum trees are darkly waving , Moonlight across the flats doth flare At sea a mast - head light is tossing ’ They ve got her there .

I gazed upon her face like one in dreaming !

Came no one from the Far Bush Town , Until last night they slowly entered

And nailed her down . They came and fetched her from me in the darkness ’ ’ The moon s red rim rose o er the hill . They passed like shadows ere I entered

My hut so still .

The music of her voice for me is calling

se a Where winds the river to the ,

Across the waste goes calling , calling

Calling me . 1 2 4 Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rse a V o ic e s

’ Her dead lips hold my where er they t ke her ! “kiss a i s My life in her soul , God knows , And I —that he will not deny me Th he e way s goes . Men crave the gift of life somewhere eternal I only want some day to know ’ e My loved one s eyes , to just rememb r

The long ago .

And I have combed her hair , with passion kissed her,

With that deep love that women crave . e I — am Heaven will remember this , wh n

In the grave .

’ a Though e rth lies on her breast , she ll kiss me sleeping

Till I awake . The morning light — Will e mble m Faith my sorrow searching n From ight to night . The grave is not a place for men to live in ’ Yet by her body sweet , I ll sleep In dreams kiss eyelids closed— that all

My passions keep .

Faith gleamed in eyes of sweetly dreaming sunrise ,

Their setting , was my last sunset And if to - morrow means forgetting Le t me forget .

1 26 Bush S o ngs and Ov e rs e a V o ic e s

On the phantom ship that rolls the deep of my dreaming

- heart to night . And the whistling wild night winds blown on are slashing the beating rain — Beating beating memories old , tap , tap on the window

pane .

’ - o ff - ancho r d I sometimes think I yet may sail , far space seas — ’ A y neath strange moon jewelled skies explore those far world mysteries With wild song homeward bound rejoice ! gaze in old

friendly eyes , ’ And so thro ages heavenward voyage to God across the

skies . ’ A s i i swallows lost mong r gg ng blown , of ships far out at e s a,

My thoughts are clinging to the stars across Infinity . ’ So w let the storms blo all away , and in the sea s dark bed

o fl- o u— The watch sailors weary eyes , sleep they are not

dead .

un I have believed when s set lies , wet tremulous on the wave , It sinks— to light dead sailors from the darkness of the grave

Aloft to God . And with such faith have watched my eyes —that I ’ Have seen their shadows thro the dusk steal up the sea

line sky, — And with such faith to night I wait , the time when I em bark

On se a — what great voyage away to alone dead , in the

dark . Bush S o ngs and Ov e rse a V o ic e s 1 2 7

L I FE

’ C R EATION S mystic beam am I . ’ My home moves o er the hills on feet , While sacred in i ts small one room — i ts h earthfire My heart warm , doth beat .

Two windows has this Shaky hut ,

- Soft lit , with special thinking light , I often pull both blinds right down

And peer across the Infinite . Beneath this scanty grey old thatch D oth shine a mystic telescope,

And fixed behind in magic dusk , o f The worried small bright eyes hope . Out to the last sun ’ s dying beam ’ I speed thought s silent thinking fires , ’ L a r ike f lling sta , in God s vast void

Pale intellect in dark expires .

Yet conscious universe am I , Eternity shut in with sight Since I do know I nothing am ’ To God s own strange unerring might .

Death from the woods will creep one day,

- Relentless , deal one Fate swung stroke, ff —m hearthfire Then pu , y will away All vanish in a little smoke 1 2 8 B ush S o ngs and Ove rs e a V o ic e s The swallows will come back again b ut o My be dark , drawn d wn each blind , ’ And o er i ts roof the wind and rain e Will beat , and I not ther confined . But , oh to rent that little house si t Again , and at its windows To watch birds wing where waves carouse ’ sun o The , the m on o er Heaven flit, ’ — And o er i ts threshold Paradise — ’ Step i h love s own sweet anxious eyes .

1 30 B ush S o ngs and Ove rsea V o ice s

GA BRIE L

DO e you remember , d ar, where the calm night waters lay At the still feet of the sleeping city dim ? ’ While an cho r d near the wild scrub Slopes of silent Sydney Ba y,

We watched the moon heave up her swollen rim , L ’ ike ghostly tunnel rise o er the far dark hill ,

A S ? I kissed your lovely warm white throat , Gabriel

Do you remember, dear , how the canvas grey sails flopped

A s - i n the empty deck chairs creaked gloom around , ’ sea- And the wandering bird cried , o er the moonlit waters dropped

As my arms held tenderly my heaven found , And the moon ’ s White flame your dark eyes did reveal

As I kissed them wildly long ago , Gabriel .

The bush flowers in the hollows have Oped their eyes and died m For any years , and yet as yesterday , s I kiss the eyes of heaven , warm uplifted , at my ide , And hear across the midnight Silent bay ’ The ferry s rolling wash , ebb , softly die — Then silence in the bay with you and I .

the In dreams I watch calm night of moonlit waters clear,

The mirrored rigging , with you by my side , ’ ’ A s o er the bulwark s rail we both would bend and peer

And watch our shadows in pure water glide . was Which the dream , the water dark and still ,

Or you and I above ? Alas Gabriel . Bush S o ngs and Ove rsea V o ic e s 1 3 1

The s s e wind awake and leep dear, for y ars into the bay The ships have brought bright laughter and fond eye s Have spread aloft their grey wings and flown like birds

away,

e sea- s e s To fad in dusk where washed uns t die . M as s s y dreams dear, the unsets ink in night ,

Are searching through the world with morning light .

The river in the wild hills still toils to m eet the sea ! se a And still the beats up the lone shore side , And deep sea ships come down the great bay silently ’ To rest from flight o er far world waters wide ! ? e But where are you I lov you wildly still , — A s I 0 . when a boy love you , Gabriel 1 32 B ush S o ngs and Ove rs e a V o ic e s

A BS EN T

! IN E! ILE) — THE se a- bird to the sea and I to you ’ My love my love , night s wings are spread ’ sk Broad in the western y, and piercing thro

b ro nz - cd The shade , a streak of red ’ ’ o r Lies shadowed e the lone lake s silent bed . My Beautiful ! love ’s pure reflected light Soft - touches every sparkling flower to - night ! Since every thing around on earth and sea ! Is tempered with my dreams , my dreams of thee ’ ? ’ Girl , can st thou hear me Dear , tis I who calls Across the sleeping world as breathe my lips

A s f Into the silence . the white mists all ’ ’ starr d Out o er the hollow wilds the night dips ,

And up away a lone bird seaward goes, ’ i ts Oh , were a message crumpled neath wing

To tell the love , the wish my being knows , s That it might trembling to your weet ears bring ,

A s as pure where the scented lily blows ,

The song , the song my heart doth sing . The rigging flie s of some lone beating barque ! ’ Stars gleam o er roaming waters far !

Away I fade , a world of ocean dark — I wing with thought am where you are

e — I A s Bend your white throat, th re now kis e s In dreams your lov ly lip , and in your eyes

I see th e e s the e e s h ight , p aks of arthly blis

1 34 Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rse a V o ic e s

PA T MCPHI ZZ

’ BILLY BOYD was my chum o n the Wallaby . ’ For hours we d si t by the camp fire unsleeping

A S - up the gums , ghost like , ran shadows creeping ,

- sk Climbed to tree tops and vanished in the y, ’ We d nodding, watch the camp fires flickering die .

Before proceeding I must tell you we

- e Had both been robbed of all our hard earn d gold ,

McPhi z z s Our partner, Pat , of crime untold ,

10 With all our fortune s ped, left Bill and me ’ s — To starve , but here s the equel wait and see

’ o urb o o ts e s We d had no luck, w re minu soles

We both looked awful scarecrows by daylight , ’ And like dilapidated ghosts when thro the night, We tramped moonlit forests our clothes full of holes !

e s. That thin , our legs looked lik rags round bean pole

’ We schemed o er many things in our sad plight ! Got tick at all the shanties by the track

At sunset stole away, upon our back

i nfini te Our swag , weighted with conscience A — virtue of swag men hid from daylight .

e Well , one still night when all the woods were sl eping sat b We whispering, when something cried just y ’ — A n old man stood there didn t we jump my eye ’ To see moonlight right thro hi s rib -bone s creeping ! ’ hi - - And thro s eye brow sockets twin stars peeping . B ush S o ngs and Ove rsea V o ic e s 1 35

We stood up astonished , our tongues went dry,

so Both swayed with terror, were overwrought

We leaned against each other for support , hi s The old ghost shook beard , said , with a sigh , ’ Follow me, there s gold where I unsleeping lie .

Thro ’ the moonlit forest with grey beard streaming

n He ran , we followed on with wonderi g fear, ’Ti a s . Then st nding by a hole , he said, here There were our long lost nuggets glittering gleaming A s in moonlight we stood in hot sweat steaming

Obedient as two children on our knees ,

U We gathered p the gold , then in he lies ’ Flat on his back , says , Now I ll close my eyes , ” In my grave fall asleep , thank God for peace . ’ McPhi z z ! Twas our lost partner, derned old Pat — We both felt awfully so rrye till our fright We saw hi s eyes by moonlight ope and wink

As , crumbling in his shroud, right up did shrink ,

Hi s form to dust , and from his grave , pure white , ’

hi s . A bird , soul I ll swear , flew in the night

’ ’ ’ It flutter d n eath the moon right overhead

h sat Then on a boug , it and sweetly sang And from that bough a lyn ching noose did hang McPhi z z Doubtless , had from that bough dropped dead ,

And we near too , we ran that fast with dread . 1 36 Bush S o ngs and Ove rs ea V o ice s

BU S H MEM O RI ES

! ! UEENS LAND) MY hearts goes southward on the winds — Of thought far seaward steals . ’ ’ Out o er re me mb e r d sleeping years The light of love reveals

In dream perspective silently ,

sea Wild woods , swamps , slope and !

And our old cabin on the hill,

the - Below dead gum tree .

’ O er dark Pacific curling waves , The snow - winged seagulls fly

Wild- blown white sails of long ago

Like flowers of sunset die .

With night dusk , stars creep overhead , My old chum dreaming stands ’ - s By our small hut s sack door , where gleam ’ The camp fire s dying brands .

’ huddl d Within our bunks once more , We go to dream and sleep ! — ’ Our brave dog bright eyes sen ti nel d

- The all night watch doth keep . The bending gums are moaning where Night - winds are singing high ’ Thro chinks I watch the wet stars flash k Across the windy s y.

Bush S o ngs and Ove rsea V o ice s

And now my very soul might prize

S slumb erd ee uch thoughts of p, Like some tired child to close my eyes s And fold my hand asleep , Just overhead the roaming herds !

s e Till sun et fires the w st,

My songs adrift with all the birds , ’ My heart neath flowers at rest . B ush S o ngs an d Ove rse a V o ice s 1 39

THE CA BIN BOY

I LOVED the little cabin boy ! We scrubbed the decks together ’ We watch d the seas rise round the poop ’ Thro all the wild night weather . i We climbed the rattl ngs , he and I , Al ong the yards we crept ! — And there homesick , seasick, and cold We both together wept

the Loudly canvas grey sails flopped , ’ And cross our snake - shaped wake

We wallowed round a knot a day , i Till , l ke a mighty lake , Old ocean mirrored all the sta rs I ’ ’ ’ While fo c s le song, sweet sound ,

The silence broke , we whispered on ,

- That full rigge d ship outbound .

’ ' Wind - hush d acro ss the moaning swell I watched him as he listened

-l Of wonder ands away ahead , Sweetly hi s blue eyes glistened e hi s e Whil , boyish way, hand gripp d Both firmly swore to stand — Together when we cleared the ship

In far Australia land . 1 40 B ush S o ngs and Ov e rs e a V o ic e s

s S We caught the trade wind far to outh , Like waves of ruby wine I ” While passed the night - cry All aloft

Seas splashed the sunset line . W A hite mist stole across the waves ,

Doom , rumbled far, faint sounds , As though death rode the wild sea- moors

- With phantom haying hounds . Like muffled tones of destiny

Tolled out the eight - bell chime

The watch , the moonlit rigging high

All silently did climb .

Out in the wind - lashed gloom we watched The mammoth seas arise

From sleep to shake their huddled backs , Lift white heads to the skies

Wild , mighty monsters lashing mains , ’ hurl d By strength eternal , n They rose on thunderi g , shrieking race With winds across the world ! A world of dark and wind— all save The albatross behind

- — Winged loneliness bright travellingeyes Flitting the restless wind I

L ike some frail , frightened , hunted thing , The old Windjammer stopped

Climbed up the hollows , shivering , di ’d Crouched , wailing , pp and dropped ,

Ten thousand jagged shining teeth , ’ ’ - sn a d Fate like , pp Heaven s soft track ,

The sapphire lightning , wriggling Split ’ ’ - Thro night s roof, ebon black .

1 42 Bush S o ngs and Ove rse a Vo ice s

THE OLD RUS TI C ’ S RE! UE ST

E me — f the GIV your hand turn my ace to west , ’ — ’ Don t grieve there , I ve had my day, ’ — I t s only an end to the fight and rest

After the drama mortals play . ’ — You ll lay me there when I fall asleep N e ar where the river flows ? Just cover me over—not too deep Down where the marsh flower blows

’ And I ll hear the wind and the wild bird sing Lo w in the rustling wheat, s s When swallow come back again in the pring, e And the young lambs play and bl at , A s I lay alone in my evening rest

Away from the din and strife, ’ Back again in the old earth s breast,

Far out of the night of life .

I may hear the high rooks calling

When tired they cease to roam , Idly flapping across the sky All slowly going home And the moan of the old firs bending

Wild on the windy hill , While the robin i s piping i ts lonely song h Where t e winds are still . Bush S o ngs and Ove rse a V o ic e s 1 43

the In the hollow by river, Up in the leafless tree When the last wild flowers are dying A s the grass grows over me . — So lay me there when I fall asleep , Near where the river flows — just cover me over not too deep

Down where the marsh flower blows . 1 44 Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rsea V o ice s

THE WI L D CO MPO S ER

! LONG A GO) A LOVELY wild musician came And by my window sang

A melody, and all his own , Along warm June winds rang Clear sparkling tones like heaven - touched

In some ethereal chime ,

Glad - ringing in the sweet wild birth Of one more day to Time

’ — And while I listen d half asleep, It seemed some Angel trills Small bugles blown—went echoing ’ - O er silent dream wrapt hills .

And England with her wealth of song , No music ever heard More beautiful than those love - notes

From h er own wild blackbird .

Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rs ea V o ice s I can hear the wild green chargers Pounding the boat’s iron side

Old Death , impatient, knocking away All night to get inside h Where haggard men like s adows move ,

fl - Toil in the ame lit gloom . ’ i t s Oh , just the whole world over Sailing the wave of doom For the aristocrats are sleeping

Snug in their bunks , I know , U All on the pper deck , while we ,

Are sweating away below , ’ - Hard feeding the white heat s fury ,

Piling the wake with foam , Unravelling all the knots that wind h The way that takes them ome .

’ - I ve clung on an old wind jammer , I ’ve done things—best untold ’ H um d p the swag on many a rush , — Fou nd everything but gold But oh for the flashlight homeward ’ The anchor s running chain , And the sight of their dear old faces To see me home again B ush S o ngs and Ove rse a V o ice s 1 47

5 UN DOWN ER S

’ um d e Up on our fast brown mares we j p , our swags heap d

up behind , And every man on Dead crow claim sent out along the wind ’ slo uch d n Three ringing cheers , their big hats wild wavi g

to and fro ,

so see Cheer followed cheer , they were pleased at last to us go !

s - The scent of the crub came dreamy, the tree frogs chanted

their song , Chanting a tune to the flying hoofs thumping the Slopes

along . S Away to the outhward racing , wild parrots rose from s tree , ’ Fading away in tiny fleets adrift o er sunset seas , h W ere the dark gums rose like huddled masts , as the

boiling hot sun sank , ’ And the white mists o er the swamp - oaks crept from the

weedy marshes rank . we As felt the fire of youth awake , and burst to wild rollicking song

as To the swish of the mains , the romping hoofs we rode

the night along . e And the scent of the wattl s blowing , in the gullies on each

side , ’ Came sweet on the breath of God s cool wine in whiffs

from the blue Heavens wide . 1 48 B ush S o ngs and Ov e rse a V o ice s

s s s The old bu h town , left miles behind , eemed ome wild

dream afar , Where fearless men told wondrous tale s and drank beer at

the bar .

b we Walled up y all the skies camped , the flame lit billy sang A s joyous with the voice of youth the hills with echoes

rang . ’ L batter d r s a ike spectral hulks , clouds c ept across the t rlit sk y. ’ Colliding one by one soft - smashed the moon s face silently ’ ’ Their shadows o er the slopes soft dropped t hro ghostly straggling light ’ ’ L s um d the ike silent phantom fled o er hills , then j p forest height !

A s - - in the dead swamp oaks hard by, the night bird did express ’ - i i t Thro swe et souled t ny magic flute , s tuneful

consciousness.

the - fire e Brushwood flung on camp blazed , crackl d , and fizzled and flared Outside like giants the hills arose with monstrous grim breasts bared ’ s e s en e far For the touch of the moon whit il t flame , whil in the dark woods seemed Spectral forms were stalking around where the wind - blown

shadows gleamed . ’ M s a s e the e es as a y chum wild d ncing catter d l av , f st I rattled a jig

1 50 Bush S o n gs an d Ov e rse a V o ic e s

The whinnying wild horse cries along

The Inland Mountain range ,

- While from the forest deep and still ,

Comes oft, with dismal change ’ The Warrigal s wild wailing cry , ’ ’ h ush d ti s Then still as death , ’ 1 All save , God s mus c beautiful ’ My sleeping comrade s breath . ’ cram d Till I awake , p , ill and old , — Near withered up all save

These memories , that are pale flowers ’ Upon life s living grave , For am I not of all my wealth

- Of youth to night bereft ,

Since on my wretched , worried head Three friendly hairs are left ?

- My bright eyed children wondering , Know not why in the fire With vacant staring eyes I stare

Their stern , respected sire .

Who for their sakes eternally,

Rides up to London Town , Each morni ng pulled up in the train

And each night pulled back down . B ush S o ngs and Ov e rsea V o ic e s 1 51

THE PRO DIGA L’ S RETURN

IN Sydney Bay we stowed away,

Down in the hot stokehole .

us They made feed that fearful fiend , The engine ’ s glowing soul

The Southern stars astern did fade ,

The thumping engines cried ,

All through the toiling , sweating nights

Across the whole world wide .

’ l ff Old Dover s white c i s gray did loom , L In ondon Town we stood , And found far deeper loneliness l Than wild bush so itude .

- flame - Down fog bound , lit streets we plunged ,

sun - Our tanned faces cold . Pale gutter - me rchants sentineled ’ The world s dark , grim stronghold .

Our thoughts swept out across the world , Like frightened birds did fly Before those dreadful pistol - shots The cold commercial eye ’ t f - s lash d Our oiling eet the mud miles p , Th e front door loud we knocked ,

And there , with eager, awestruck eyes , Our sisters round us flocked 1 52 B ush S o ngs and Ove rsea V o ice s

Back in our old an cestral halls Crash on the floor it laid

One faithful friend , my portmanteau Crammed up with bills unpaid

- fire And by the hearth warm , that night, mo nths Their did open wide,

so We told such things , they were proud , We swelled ourselves with pride

We told them of big fortunes made, And how we thought of them

Dressed up in silk and satins soft , Li t up with flashing gem And how the ship went down at sea With all our wealth inside

- fire Then round the hearth beautiful , — They sighed nor dreamed we lied .

We showed the stokehole shovel - corns Upon our hands so sore The windy chimney’ s hollow throat

U i ci o Moaned with S Sp us roar .

Aye , years ago, and when I hear

Brave deeds of travelling youth ,

I listening blow my nose , for oh Too well I know the truth

1 54 Bush S o ngs an d Ove rse a V o ice s

x she U Ne t morning with full steam sailed, swung round pon

the tide,

We heard the passengers all say Good - bye e With wistful eyes we watch d her go , slow , down the great

bay glide .

n A thousand white ha ds waved , our hearts did sigh , A s underneath the trOpi c sun away my thoughts did roam as When round the point her stern p sed out of sight,

saw I heard her thundering screw in dreams , I her rolling home — A t se a and cried myself to sleep that night

— ! S Mail day arrived , the one great day Up George treet

from the ! uay, ’ f We d go to where the great Post O fice stands , ? ’ And at a little hole enquire , Please anything for me Great Scott a five pound note lay in my hands ’ s o e r o ed Old sailor smacked me on the back j y , I lost my head “ as They drank deep seas , winked , with pride I paid

That night my room whirled round and round , and fathoms deep my bed

’ Sank thro the floor as there I helpless laid .

From that time forth I went alone . Soft , on the window pane ’ I d tap , look round before I did inquire ,

And those old sailor men , my friends , for months watched

on in vain . One real great virtue is to be a liar !

I emigrated to the Bush , God only knows where to !

My shipmate humped the swag , oft cursed and swore

Right to the skyline gum trees rose , we camped , made our tea - stew Bush S o ngs an d Ov e rse a V o ic e s 1 55

No sleep that night we fought , we heard them roar A s down the regiments wildly charged , beneath the stars we ’ d see ’ The glittering spears that stabbed us tween the toes ! e n Th ir bodies hu g fat with our blood ! they danced , they

sang with glee , —d the Those d mosquitoes where wattle blows .

Since Eve and Adam humped the swag , exiled from their

first home , On God ’ s own wilds ne ’er was seen such a sight a For weeks knee deep in hot , soft sand , our st ggering legs

did roam ,

- Near trouserless , blind drunk with hot sunlight !

- The spinifex soft stabbed our flesh , we still had on our

boots . The station children stared when we appeared !

Our bare legs shook ! thank heaven , our shirts hung far below our suits

The stockman swore , fell of his horse that reared

’ They gave us food and rigged us out ! we learn t to ride like hell Went back to Sydney flush and found old friends

Down on the quay all in a row , they sat, did hearken well

To all we said , and there my story ends . ? S And where are they ome went to sea , some humped i the swag, some d ed ’ Dell went to Frisco John , the old sea cook ,

’ Se cured a berth , the ship went down , and he s still there inside ! Th e worst one shipped for home and wrote a book 1 56 B ush S o ngs and Ove rs ea V o ic e s

’ ” i t s ! I met the baronet one day ! I said , Good God , you And smacked hi s back ! the eyeglass from hi s eye “ as z hi s Dropped ama ed , eyebrows raised, he gasped Can this be true ?

s hi s s s me Turned white, then wayed tick , and pa sed by . With hell behind my blazing eyes I hurrie d down the Strand ! “ ’ s the e e Thought, That cov that borrow d my old shirt ! ” as s I yearned to meet him , of old , in that far lone Bu h land ! ’ ! ’ — ’ He d gasp I d sway the stick that s one dead cert .

1 58 B ush S o ngs and Ov e rse a V o ic e s

M O DERN L O ND O N

N OT i n W South seas or ildAustralian Bush ,

Or in dark clouds or where the bright stars soar ,

But midst the throb of wheels , the mighty rush

Of City streets , the whistling shrieks , the roar m Of ultitudes , brave , grand , incessant strife , ’ o We ll find the real r mance of splendid life , — And , still embodied , ancient love and lore

’ unfled e d The g soul of passion s fragile frame ,

The bravest deeds of Heroes ages dead . A girl ’s surrendered loveliness the shame

- Of all upon her tired , half Angel H ead ! ’ - - And gliding thro the lamp lit , dark walled streets a ff Batt lions of pale eyes , and mu led beats — Of hearts that hold some s ecret fast with dread . The whistling urchin dodging wheels fast running By sparks caught from what thunders of far stars ’ Th e a Universal light we ved by man s cunning ,

Switched to the rushing stream of gliding cars . — Space blind with moving worlds , while man , a clod , A drama plays that murmurs out a God ! ’ n A chord of grandeur i Time s myriad jars .

hi s Diogenes lurks , jealous , by Tub

f - Old cynics shu fle by with white lipped sneer, ’Gainst Croesus with his millions oft I rub

. e My shabby sleeve I sniff spiced , flowery be r B ush S o ngs an d Ov e rse a V o ic e s 1 59

’ — ’ Neath past Egyptian skies whiffs thro moonlight

i . u My nostr ls bathe Brave Cyr s , with delight — I Fights half the world a pen behind his ear

’ ’ Old Babylon s , Assyria s dust, the clang ,

The chants of Pagan Temples , noise of seas , ’ san dall d Past moons , the maiden as she sprang — — To arms long dead beneath fair cedar trees . f ! Grand glories hid , stu fed rows in Pyramids

- f Sweet spiced old mummies and curved sti f eyelids , Alive move down the Strand ! Cheapside ! Heaven

knows , ’ — I ve bargained and be en done b y those Pharaohs

’ ’ - — i n . I ve seen Ruth , waist deep mid the corn dreams

- n Her pale faced Sister bargain , soulless sta d ’ - Neath bright street lamps , by moving seas of schemes — ’ n an Hid eath top hats , fast gliding down the Str d ’ I ve heard dead - laughter — midst the crowd stood still As Cleopatra passed as swept a thrill Of Ages thro ’ my frame— she’ d touched my hand I

Arabian Nights , ten thousand magic lamps ’ Gleam o er the unsung heroes of my day . The deathless regiment ever onward tramps Old passions born of ages far away I

From gloom to gloom , pale gliding eyes , we see — — The past the shadows of the future We ! Behind the drama of what coming play ?

OH N N LT P B S H E R J LO G , D . , U L I S , LON DON

THI S BOOK I S DU E ON THE L A S T DA TE S TA MPED BEL OW

A N l N lTlA L F I N E OF 25 C EN TS WI LL B E AS S ES S ED F O R F AI LU R E To R ETU R N TH E PEN L Y TH I S BOO K O N TH E DATE DU E. A T W I LL I N C R EA S E TO s o C EN TS O N TH E F O U R TH DA Y A N D TO O N TH E S EV EN TH DA Y

O VER DU E.