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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=343996" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>In Defence of the Bush</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">So you're back from up the country, Mister Lawson, where you went, <br>And you're cursing all the business in a bitter discontent; <br>Well, we grieve to disappoint you, and it makes us sad to hear <br>That it wasn't cool and shady -- and there wasn't whips of beer, <br>And the looney bullock snorted when you first came into view -- <br>Well, you know it's not so often that he sees a swell like you; <br>And the roads were hot and dusty, and the plains were burnt and brown, <br>And no doubt you're better suited drinking lemon-squash in town. <br>Yet, perchance, if you should journey down the very track you went <br>In a month or two at furthest, you would wonder what it meant; <br>Where the sunbaked earth was gasping like a creature in its pain <br>You would find the grasses waving like a field of summer grain, <br>And the miles of thirsty gutters, blocked with sand and choked with mud, <br>You would find them mighty rivers with a turbid, sweeping flood. <br>For the rain and drought and sunshine make no changes in the street, <br>In the sullen line of buildings and the ceaseless tramp of feet; <br>But the bush has moods and changes, as the seasons rise and fall, <br>And the men who know the bush-land -- they are loyal through it all. <br>    * </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But you found the bush was dismal and a land of no delight -- <br>Did you chance to hear a chorus in the shearers' huts at night? <br>Did they 'rise up William Riley' by the camp-fire's cheery blaze? <br>Did they rise him as we rose him in the good old droving days? <br>And the women of the homesteads and the men you chanced to meet -- <br>Were their faces sour and saddened like the 'faces in the street'? <br>And the 'shy selector children' -- were they better now or worse <br>Than the little city urchins who would greet you with a curse? <br>Is not such a life much better than the squalid street and square <br>Where the fallen women flaunt it in the fierce electric glare, <br>Wher the sempstress plies her needle till her eyes are sore and red <br>In a filthy, dirty attic toiling on for daily bread? <br>Did you hear no sweeter voices in the music of the bush <br>Than the roar of trams and buses, and the war-whoop of 'the push'? <br>Did the magpies rouse your slumbers with their carol sweet and strange? <br>Did you hear the silver chiming of the bell-birds on the range? <br>But, perchance, the wild birds' music by your senses was despised, <br>For you say you'll stay in townships till the bush is civilized. <br>Would you make it a tea-garden, and on Sundays have a band <br>Where the 'blokes' might take their 'donahs', with a 'public' close at hand? <br>You had better stick to Sydney and make merry with the 'push', <br>For the bush will never suit you, and you'll never suit the bush.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Andrew+Barton+Paterson">Andrew Barton Paterson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=343996" data-title="In Defence of the Bush de Andrew Barton Paterson" data-description="So you're back from up the country, Mister Lawson, where you went, 
And you're cursing all the business in a bitter discontent; 
Well, we grieve to disappoint you, and it makes us sad to hear 
That it wasn't cool and shady -- and there wasn't whip..."></div>
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