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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=344015" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Mustering Song</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The boss last night in the hut did say<br>&quot;We start to muster at break of day;<br>So be up first thing, and don't be slow;<br>Saddle your horses and off you go.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So early in the morning, so early in the morning,<br>So early in the morning, before the break of day.<br>Such a night in the yard there never was seen<br>(The horses were fat and the grass was green):<br>Bursting of girths and slipping of packs<br>As the stockmen saddled the fastest hacks.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Across the plain we jog along<br>Over gully, swamp, and billabong;<br>We dropp on a mob pretty lively, too<br>We round 'em up and give 'em a slue.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now the scrub grows thick and the cattle are wild,<br>A regular caution to this 'ere child<br>A new chum man on an old chum horse,<br>Who sails through the scrub as a matter of course.<br>I was close up stuck in a rotten bog;<br>I got a buster jumping a log;<br>I found this scouting rather hot,<br>So I joined the niggers with the lot we'd got.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A long-haired shepherd we chanced to meet<br>With a water bag, billy, and dog complete;<br>He came too close to a knocked up steer,<br>Who up a sapling made him clear.<br>Now on every side we faintly hear<br>The crack of the stockwhip drawing near;<br>To the camp the cattle soon converge,<br>As from the thick scrub they emerge.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We hastily comfort the inner man<br>With the warm contents of the billy can;<br>The beef and damper are passed about<br>Before we tackle the cutting out.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We're at it now—that bally calf<br>Would surely make a sick man laugh;<br>The silly fool can't take a joke;<br>I hope some day in the drought he'll croak.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We've 'em now—the cows and calves<br>(Things here are never done by halves):<br>Strangers, workers, and milkers, too,<br>Of scrubbers also not a few.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It's getting late, we'd better push;<br>'Tis a good long way across the bush,<br>And the mob to drive are middling hard;<br>I do not think we'll reach the yard.</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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&quot;We start to muster at break of day;
So be up first thing, and don't be slow;
Saddle your horses and off you go.&quot;

So early in the morning, so early in the morning,
So early in the morning, before t..."></div>
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