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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=344129" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Old Australian Ways</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The London lights are far abeam <br>Behind a bank of cloud, <br>Along the shore the gaslights gleam, <br>The gale is piping loud; <br>And down the Channel, groping blind, <br>We drive her through the haze <br>Towards the land we left behind -- <br>The good old land of `never mind', <br>And old Australian ways. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The narrow ways of English folk <br>Are not for such as we; <br>They bear the long-accustomed yoke <br>Of staid conservancy: <br>But all our roads are new and strange, <br>And through our blood there runs <br>The vagabonding love of change <br>That drove us westward of the range <br>And westward of the suns. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The city folk go to and fro <br>Behind a prison's bars, <br>They never feel the breezes blow <br>And never see the stars; <br>They never hear in blossomed trees <br>The music low and sweet <br>Of wild birds making melodies, <br>Nor catch the little laughing breeze <br>That whispers in the wheat. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our fathers came of roving stock <br>That could not fixed abide: <br>And we have followed field and flock <br>Since e'er we learnt to ride; <br>By miner's camp and shearing shed, <br>In land of heat and drought, <br>We followed where our fortunes led, <br>With fortune always on ahead <br>And always further out. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The wind is in the barley-grass, <br>The wattles are in bloom; <br>The breezes greet us as they pass <br>With honey-sweet perfume; <br>The parakeets go screaming by <br>With flash of golden wing, <br>And from the swamp the wild-ducks cry <br>Their long-drawn note of revelry, <br>Rejoicing at the Spring. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">So throw the weary pen aside <br>And let the papers rest, <br>For we must saddle up and ride <br>Towards the blue hill's breast; <br>And we must travel far and fast <br>Across their rugged maze, <br>To find the Spring of Youth at last, <br>And call back from the buried past <br>The old Australian ways. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">When Clancy took the drover's track <br>In years of long ago, <br>He drifted to the outer back <br>Beyond the Overflow; <br>By rolling plain and rocky shelf, <br>With stockwhip in his hand, <br>He reached at last, oh lucky elf, <br>The Town of Come-and-help-yourself <br>In Rough-and-ready Land. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And if it be that you would know <br>The tracks he used to ride, <br>Then you must saddle up and go <br>Beyond the Queensland side -- <br>Beyond the reach of rule or law, <br>To ride the long day through, <br>In Nature's homestead -- filled with awe <br>You then might see what Clancy saw <br>And know what Clancy knew. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">A.B. (Banjo) Paterson</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=344129" data-title="The Old Australian Ways de Andrew Barton Paterson" data-description="The London lights are far abeam 
Behind a bank of cloud, 
Along the shore the gaslights gleam, 
The gale is piping loud; 
And down the Channel, groping blind, 
We drive her through the haze 
Towards the land we left behind -- 
The good old land of..."></div>
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