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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408900" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Roaring Days</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The night too quickly passes <br> And we are growing old, <br>So let us fill our glasses <br> And toast the Days of Gold; <br>When finds of wondrous treasure <br> Set all the South ablaze, <br>And you and I were faithful mates <br> All through the roaring days! <br> <br>Then stately ships came sailing <br> From every harbour's mouth, <br>And sought the land of promise <br> That beaconed in the South; <br>Then southward streamed their streamers <br> And swelled their canvas full <br>To speed the wildest dreamers <br> E'er borne in vessel's hull. <br> <br>Their shining Eldorado, <br> Beneath the southern skies, <br>Was day and night for ever <br> Before their eager eyes. <br>The brooding bush, awakened, <br> Was stirred in wild unrest, <br>And all the year a human stream <br> Went pouring to the West. <br> <br>The rough bush roads re-echoed <br> The bar-room's noisy din, <br>When troops of stalwart horsemen <br> Dismounted at the inn. <br>And oft the hearty greetings <br> And hearty clasp of hands <br>Would tell of sudden meetings <br> Of friends from other lands; <br>When, puzzled long, the new-chum <br> Would recognise at last, <br>Behind a bronzed and bearded skin, <br> A comrade of the past. <br> <br>And when the cheery camp-fire <br> Explored the bush with gleams, <br>The camping-grounds were crowded <br> With caravans of teams; <br>Then home the jests were driven, <br> And good old songs were sung, <br>And choruses were given <br> The strength of heart and lung. <br>Oh, they were lion-hearted <br> Who gave our country birth! <br>Oh, they were of the stoutest sons <br> From all the lands on earth! <br> <br>Oft when the camps were dreaming, <br> And fires began to pale, <br>Through rugged ranges gleaming <br> Would come the Royal Mail. <br>Behind six foaming horses, <br> And lit by flashing lamps, <br>Old `Cobb and Co.'s', in royal state, <br> Went dashing past the camps. <br> <br>Oh, who would paint a goldfield, <br> And limn the picture right, <br>As we have often seen it <br> In early morning's light; <br>The yellow mounds of mullock <br> With spots of red and white, <br>The scattered quartz that glistened <br> Like diamonds in light; <br>The azure line of ridges, <br> The bush of darkest green, <br>The little homes of calico <br> That dotted all the scene. <br> <br>I hear the fall of timber <br> From distant flats and fells, <br>The pealing of the anvils <br> As clear as little bells, <br>The rattle of the cradle, <br> The clack of windlass-boles, <br>The flutter of the crimson flags <br> Above the golden holes. <br> <br> . . . . . <br> <br>Ah, then our hearts were bolder, <br> And if Dame Fortune frowned <br>Our swags we'd lightly shoulder <br> And tramp to other ground. <br>But golden days are vanished, <br> And altered is the scene; <br>The diggings are deserted, <br> The camping-grounds are green; <br>The flaunting flag of progress <br> Is in the West unfurled, <br>The mighty bush with iron rails <br> Is tethered to the world.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Lawson">Henry Lawson</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=408900" data-title="The Roaring Days de Henry Lawson" data-description="The night too quickly passes 
 And we are growing old, 
So let us fill our glasses 
 And toast the Days of Gold; 
When finds of wondrous treasure 
 Set all the South ablaze, 
And you and I were faithful mates 
 All through the roaring days! 
 
The..."></div>
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