The Shanty On The Rise
When the caravans of wool-teams climbed the ranges from the West,
On a spur among the mountains stood `The Bullock-drivers' Rest';
It was built of bark and saplings, and was rather rough inside,
But 'twas good enough for bushmen in the careless days that died --
Just a quiet little shanty kept by `Something-in-Disguise',
As the bushmen called the landlord of the Shanty on the Rise.
City swells who `do the Royal' would have called the Shanty low,
But 'twas better far and purer than some toney pubs I know;
For the patrons of the Shanty had the principles of men,
And the spieler, if he struck it, wasn't welcome there again.
You could smoke and drink in quiet, yarn, or else soliloquise,
With a decent lot of fellows in the Shanty on the Rise.
'Twas the bullock-driver's haven when his team was on the road,
And the waggon-wheels were groaning as they ploughed beneath the load;
And I mind how weary teamsters struggled on while it was light,
Just to camp within a cooey of the Shanty for the night;
And I think the very bullocks raised their heads and fixed their eyes
On the candle in the window of the Shanty on the Rise.
And the bullock-bells were clanking from the marshes on the flats
As we hurried to the Shanty, where we hung our dripping hats;
And we took a drop of something that was brought at our desire,
As we stood with steaming moleskins in the kitchen by the fire.
Oh! it roared upon a fireplace of the good, old-fashioned size,
When the rain came down the chimney of the Shanty on the Rise.
They got up a Christmas party in the Shanty long ago,
While I camped with Jimmy Nowlett on the riverbank below;
Poor old Jim was in his glory -- they'd elected him M.C.,
For there wasn't such another raving lunatic as he.
`Mr. Nowlett, Mr. Swaller!' shouted Something-in-Disguise,
As we walked into the parlour of the Shanty on the Rise.
There is little real pleasure in the city where I am --
There's a swarry round the corner with its mockery and sham;
But a fellow can be happy when around the room he whirls
In a party up the country with the jolly country girls.
Why, at times I almost fancied I was dancing on the skies,
When I danced with Mary Carey in the Shanty on the Rise.
Jimmy came to me and whispered, and I muttered, `Go along!'
But he shouted, `Mr. Swaller will oblige us with a song!'
And at first I said I wouldn't, and I shammed a little too,
Till the girls began to whisper, `Mr. Swallow, now, ah, DO!'
So I sang a song of something 'bout the love that never dies,
And the chorus shook the rafters of the Shanty on the Rise.
Jimmy burst his concertina, and the bullock-drivers went
For the corpse of Joe the Fiddler, who was sleeping in his tent;
Joe was tired and had lumbago, and he wouldn't come, he said,
But the case was very urgent, so they pulled him out of bed;
And they fetched him, for the bushmen knew that Something-in-Disguise
Had a cure for Joe's lumbago in the Shanty on the Rise.
Jim and I were rather quiet while escorting Mary home,
'Neath the stars that hung in clusters, near and distant, from the dome;
And we walked so very silent -- being lost in reverie --
That we heard the settlers'-matches rustle softly on the tree;
And I wondered who would win her when she said her sweet good-byes --
But she died at one-and-twenty, and was buried on the Rise.
I suppose the Shanty vanished from the ranges long ago,
And the girls are mostly married to the chaps I used to know;
My old chums are in the distance -- some have crossed the border-line,
But in fancy still their glasses chink against the rim of mine.
And, upon the very centre of the greenest spot that lies
In my fondest recollection, stands the Shanty on the Rise.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Old Shanty Town
With the heat of the sun,
As it fiercely beats down,
There's no shade to be won,
In this old Shanty Town.
The rough row of shacks,
To be seen up and down,
Are riddled with cracks,
In this old Shanty town.
The winds, blowing hard,
Send the tumbleweed down,
To take over a graveyard,
In this old Shanty Town.
And weird echoes resound,
Through doors broken down,
And no welcome is found,
In this old Shanty Town.
Once a horse and its rider,
Came sauntering down,
In the hope of cool cider,
In this old Shanty Town.
That's when there were folk,
Who walked up and down,
And slept and awoke,
In this old Shanty Town.
But these times have flown,
And it's drab and rundown,
And one's all on one's own,
In this old Shanty Town.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Movement V - Wedding
Shanty I know I should be glad of this
For to be thankful is
To know.
I hope
That you will still be here,
The time is drawing near
For us to know.
Mary dee (no longer as a ghost)
Ill always be here
As long as youve got time for me.
Whether its joy or sadness,
It doesnt matter
As long as you have time for me,
We will be together.
Shanty
I know that to be thankful is
Not what I need, but just for right now
Its all Ive got.
I know that patience is a virtue.
But at this time in my life
I need something more.
Something in the air
Is slowly drawing us together.
Mary dee
Sit tight,
Be brave.
And believe in something more.
Shanty
If I could sit still,
It I could be courageous.
I have a feeling that theres something
Drawing us inevitably towards it.
Mary dee
If you have patience,
You neednt wait for ever.
This is the story that they tell the children
Who are always asking the question.
Shanty
I know someone is making sense.
Mary dee
We have a common sense.
(ah)
Shanty and chorus
(ah)
Boys
Father, hear our humble voices.
We will praise thee all our days.
Cleanse our sins, release our minds.
We will be together.
Preacher and womens chorus
Lord, deliver thy salvation
Unto those that bless thy name.
Full chorus
Let them live in harmony,
Solo quartet
With thy holy spirit.
Chorus
Hosanna, hosanna.
Gloria in excelsis deo.
Mary dee and shanty
God in heaven, save thy thunder
For the enemies of love.
Bathe us in thy holy light.
We will live together.
Chorus
Amen.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dont Look Down
Dont look down
Theyre making sorta crazy sounds
Dont look down, no
Dont know who else came to kneel
On this empty battlefield
But when I hear that crazy sound, I dont look down
From central park to shanty town
I always hear that crazy sound
From new york to shanty town
Theres always something else
Dont look down, no
I went this morning to the cemetary
To see old rudy valentino buried
Lipstick traces on his name
He never looked down
cause they were making crazy sounds
From central park to shanty town
He always heard that crazy sound
Theres always something else
Dont look down, no
When I see you standing there
I cant see the clothes you wear
I just hear that crazy sound
And I cant look down
From central park to shanty town
Ive always heard that crazy sound
From new york to shanty town
Theres always something else
Dont look down, no
Dont look down
Dont look, dont look down
No I wont be bored I wont be there
Look at life its no piece of cake
When I hear that crazy sound
I dont look down
From central park to shanty town
I always hear that crazy sound
From new york to shanty town
Theres always something else
Dont look down
Dont look down, no
Well, dont look, dont look down
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mulligan's Shanty
Things is just the same as ever
On the outer Never-Never,
And you look to find the stock of liquor scanty,
But we found things worse than ordin'ry,
And in fact a bit extraordin'ry
When myself and Bill the Pinker struck the shanty.
'Shanty,' says you. 'What shanty?'
Why, Mulligan's shanty.
I says 'Whisky'; Bill says 'Brandy';
But there wasn't either handy,
For the boss was out of liquor in that line.
'Well, I'll try a rum,' says Billy.
'Got no rum,' he answers, chilly,
'But I'll recommend a decent drop o' tine.'
'Tine?' says Bill; 'what tine?'
'Why, turpentine!'
'Blow me blue!' says Bill the Pinker,
'Can't yer give us a deep-sinker?
Ain't you got a cask o' beer behind the screen?'
Bill was getting pretty cranky,
But there wasn't any swanky.
Says the landlord, 'Why not have a drop o' sene?'
'Sene?' says Bill; 'what sene?'
'Why, kerosene!'
Well, we wouldn't spend a tanner,
But the boss's pleasant manner
All our cursing couldn't easily demolish.
Says he, 'Strike me perpendic'lar
But you beggars are partic'lar,
Why, the squatter in the parlor's drinking polish!'
'Polish?' says Bill, 'what polish?'
'Why, furniture-polish!'
poem by William Thomas Goodge
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Movement Iii - Crypt
Shanty
And so it was that I had grown
Into a youth uncertain, thrown
Amongst the lions and the lambs.
To pass the time we watched the children dance.
I used to come here when this place was a crypt.
Now the music plays.
Oh dont you sometimes wish theyd stick to the script
As the local preacher says.
Rain from heaven will blessings bring,
Behold the harvest grown. r
Ian from heaven falls down on you,
But me, I feel alone.
Preacher (sympathetically)
Alone.
Shanty
Alone.
Preacher
If they wont come to worship
God in a church
Something must be done.
We have to instigate a nationwide search
For a way to make it fun.
Rain from heaven will blessings bring,
Behold the harvest grown.
Shanty and preacher
Rain from heaven falls down on you,
Shanty
But me, I feel alone.
Alone.
Here now,
What am I doing here now?
Hear me,
Why do you never hear me?
Why do you never hear me?
Mary dee (as half-ghost)
Ill always be here.
Ill never leave you.
Ill always be in your mind.
Dreams of the future,
Ghosts of the past left behind.
Womens chorus
(ah)
Shanty
Thought I had a vision
Lying in a graveyard,
Thought I heard a melody inside.
Could it be the future,
Speaking with the voice of those who died?
Thought I saw a kingdom,
Happiness and laughter,
Somewhere for an innocent to play.
Is there any justice?
Do these things still happen in this way?
Mary dee
Dont tell him no,
It isnt fair.
For he was told by those who know
There was love everywhere.
Shanty
Love everywhere.
Mary dee
Nows the time to tell him,
While his mothers crying.
Break it to him gently as she weeps.
Let him know his father
Will be well looked after, where he sleeps.
Chorus (ghosts)
Hes sleeping amongst us.
Hes in our dreams.
Dont worry. hes with us now.
Shanty
Dont say its so,
It isnt fair.
For I was told by those who know
There was love everywhere.
Alone.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Movement Viii - Peace
Shanty
And so it was that you were born
Into this world one winter morning,
With a childish innocence you smiled at me
And I was born again.
Boy solo
Non nobis solum
Sed toti mundo
Boys choir
Nati,
Mundo nati.
Boy solo
Toti mundo nati.
Mens chorus
God is good
And he will be our savior,
All we need
Is in his power to give us.
Let the light that lies within
His heart
Illuminate our being.
Full chorus
God is good
And with this thought to guide us
We will live
In joyful contemplation.
Let the love that lives within your heart
Illuminate your being.
Preacher
What people want is a family life,
The strength of a home and a moat round the castle.
Pull up the drawbridge,
Staying at home with the family.
All people want is a family life,
Sometimes they find that it isnt so easy.
People can argue,
Life can be hard on a family.
Basses
Mums in the kitchen, she wont speak to dad.
Altos
Uncles ashamed of the good time he had.
Tenors
Brothers and sisters are lifting the roof
With the music they play all night.
Preacher
But people still want a family life,
Nothing replaces the love and affection.
Pull up the drawbridge
Tempers are frayed, but its like that.
Altos
Dont be dismayed if its like that.
Basses
Like that.
Preacher
Youre not obeyed but you like that -family life.
Boys and altos
God is good.
In him well live for ever,
Satisfied
Inside his grace and glory,
Full chorus
Safe and sound
In his eternal love
We have found salvation.
Nurse
Dads in the garden, he wont speak to m
Mary dee mother.
Nurse
Uncles in bed with a pain in his...
Shanty
The devil is evil
Preacher
And God is good.
Mary dee
The devil is evil
Shanty with a d.
Mary dee
And God is good
Shanty without an o.
Mary dee and nurse God is good without an o.
Shanty and preacher
0...
Mary dee and nurse
And so we are grateful for harmony
For we will be faithful
Shanty and preacher
Eternally.
Mary dee, nurse, shanty and preacher
(ah)
Full chorus
(ah)
God is good,
The universal savior.
Trust in him
To lead us through the darkness.
Live in love and when the battles won
Mary dee and nurse
Live in peace.
Shanty and preacher
Live in peace.
Full chorus
Live in peace for ever.
Solo quartet
Live in peace.
All live in peace together.
Shanty
So on and on the story goes
From day to day throughout our lives.
Mary dee
What can we do,
Thats how it grows.
I am with you,
Mary dee and shanty
Our love survives.
End
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dont Look Down
Pop/williamson
Dont look oown
Theyre making sorta crazy sounds
Dont look down no
Dont know who else came to kneel
On this empty battlefield
But when I hear that crazy s0und I dont look down
From central park to shanty town
I always hear that crazy sound
From new york to shanty town
Theres always something else
Dont look down. no
I went this morning to the cemetary
To see old rudy valentino buried
Lipstick traces on his name
He never looked down
cause they were making crazy sounds
From central park to shanty town
He always heard that crazy sound
Theres always something else
Dont look down. no
When I see you standing there
I cant see the clothes you wear
I just hear that crazy sound
And I cant look down
Ive always heard that crazy sound
From new york to shanty town
Theres always something else
Dont look down. no
Dont look down
Ddnt look. dont look down
No I wont be bored I wont be there
Look at life it s no piece of cake
When I hear that crazy sound
I dont look down
From central park to sl-lantr town
I lways hear rhat crazr soljnd
Fiolq new rork to shanty town
Theres always something else
Dont look down. no
Dont look down
Ddnt look. dont look down
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Movement Vii - Crises
(mary dee and shantys home)
Mary dee (alone in bedroom)
The world youre coming into,
Is no easy place to enter.
Every day is haunted
By the echoes of the past.
Funny thoughts and wild; wild dreams
Will find their way into your mind.
The clouds that hang above us,
May be full of rain and thunder.
But in time they slide away
To find the sun still there.
Lazy days and wild. wild flowers
Will bring some joy into your heart.
And I will always love you,
Ill welcome you into this world.
Mary dee and boy solo
You-re mine and I will love you.
Shanty
]where-s my dinner?
Ive been working hard all day
And a man can work up quite an appetite that way.
Whats for dinner?
Something nourishing and hot?
I could tackle quite a lot of you know what
And all Ive got to say to you is why no dinner?
Ive got nothing on my plate.
Its expected of a mate.
Whyd ya have to make me wait?
Wheres my...
Mary dee
This is the way we put out the candle.
Farewell to childhood.
Deep in the wild wood a fire goes out,
And what are we left with
Now we are grown up?
Shanty
This is the way we pull up the anchor.
Goodbye to romance.
Out on the ocean a good ship is lost,
And what are we left with
Now we are grown up?
Mary dee
Time to be thinking of real life feelings.
I must get on.
Shanty
Time to be buying those little trinkets
I cant afford.
Lord knows
I want to give her the best.
But where will
I find the rest of the cash?
Mary dee
Its one mad dash
To fame and fortune.
The cymbals clash
And then youre gone.
Shanty
So what are my chances
Of getting promotion?
The way things are going
It doesnt look good.
Mary dee
What good is complaining,
Its getting you nowhere.
And Im in the middle of your whirlwind
In the eye of your storm.
Shanty
Lets not argue.
Mary dee
Spare me your excuses.
Shanty
No excuses.
Mary dee
Pardon my anger.
Shanty
Why are you driving me so hard?
Mary dee
I cant believe what Im hearing.
Shanty
You didnt cook any dinner.
Mary dee
Im not a slave.
I work for a living,
I can command the respect of my peers.
Where did you go?
You were out with the boys.
Shanty
So what if I went for a drink?
Youd think to listen to you
It was some sort of crime.
Mary dee
I needed someone to talk to
But all I could find was myself.
If you were the same man I married,
Youd know that your woman needs love.
Shanty
And what about me?
I suppose I dont matter.
Im not even sure
If you ever loved me.
Mary dee
Right!
Thats it!
Im off!
Oh, and by the way...youre about to become a father.
(she rushes our into the street)
Chorus
Stop.
Wait.
Hold on.
Hold on to life.
Stay.
(hospital)
Nurse
Do you know who you are
As you lie there sleeping?
Take the time to rest your troubled head.
I will watch over you till the moment you awake.
Can you hear what I say
As you lie there sleeping?
When misfortunes crowd into your day
And the dark side of life
Has become too much to bear,
I will stay by your side.
Though we dont yet know if theres something wrong
You were brought in from the street
And a witness said you gave a shout
As you fell down at his feet.
We are running tests
And soon the results will be known.
But I feel I have to warn you,
There may be complications.
But we dont yet know if your child is in danger.
We shall have to wait and see.
In the meantime
There is nothing more for you to do
But sleep.
Boys
Ghosts of the past left behind.
Mens chorus (ghosts)
Youre sleeping
Amongst us.
Were in your dream.
Nurse
Youre dreaming. try to rest, my child.
Mens chorus (ghosts)
You called us,
We heard you
And we are here.
Nurse
To save your child you must be still.
Mens chorus (ghosts)
Were ready to listen
To what you ask.
Nurse
Go to sleep
Womens chorus (ghosts)
Youre crossing
The water,
The tide is strong.
Mary dee
No!
Womens chorus (ghosts)
Your child is drawn to us,
Into our throng.
Shanty
No!
Full chorus (ghosts)
This child is
Most welcome.
Soon one of us.
Mary dee
No, I tell you!
Youll never get through,
Ill never let you.
No-one is stealing this child.
Im not afraid of ghosts that the past left behind.
Shanty
Let her recover,
Then let me love her
Until we run out of time.
And in the future
I will promise to be the man
She had in mind.
Nurse
Be still.
Be calm.
Your child is safe.
Mary dee
Do we live in a world
With an uncertain future
Where a man is unsure of his fate?
Will we come to our senses
Be fair to each other?
Can we turn it around
Before its too late?
Do I know that we have the answer?
Yes, I know now we are together.
So we must bear in mind
That the pages are turning
And the sand will run out of the glass.
In the heat of the battle
We will drive out the demons
And well carry the day,
For we must save the child.
Mary dee and nurse
(ah)
Mary dee and shanty
We have come to our senses,
We are part of each other
And well carry the day,
For we must save the child.
Chorus
Do you know that you have the answer?
Mary dee and shanty
Yes, we know now.
Chorus
We know now.
Mary dee and shanty
We know now.
We are together.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Movement Ii - School
Boys
Were here in school today to get a perfect education,
Yes, were going up.
Were keen to learn the rules and laws that civilization taught us
Yes, were growing up.
Not for ourselves, b
But for the whole world were we born.
And we were born in liverpool.
Our teachers say that ignorance will always drag us down,
Its like a nagging cough.
Shanty (thrown away)
But I can say that looking back,
The most important thing I found was sagging off!
Not for the whole world.
But for yourself were you born.
And you were...
Shanty and boys
Born in liverpool.
Boys
Not birmingham
Nor edinburgh.
Not manchester
Or sunderland.
Shanty
Being born where you were born
Carries with it certain responsibilities.
Boys
This school is good for us.
Shanty
This school is only good for those
Who want to learn from books.
Youll lose your sense of purpose...
Boys
But we dare not answer back,
Were scared of teachers looks.
Not for ourselves,
But for the whole world were we born.
And we were born in liverpool.
Shanty
Not coventry
Headmaster
Or solihull.
Boys
Not scarborough
Shanty
Nor inverness.
Being born where you were born
Carries with it certain responsibilities.
Headmaster
Walk in single file out of the classroom,
Down the stairs and into the playground.
Boys
Through the school gates,
Cross the road, and over the cemetery fence,
Down the hill to where the grave-stones
Lie inviting in the sun.
Settle down.
Settle down.
Let the afternoon slip by.
Settle down.
Settle down.
Its the perfect place for a kip.
(shanty falls asleep on a grave-stone and dreams)
Shanty
Kept in confusion,
Trapped by illusion,
Thinking of speaking my mind.
Dreams of the future,
Ghosts of the past left behind.
Constantly drifting,
Endlessly lifting
More weight than one man can bear.
Into the future,
Ghosts of the past everywhere.
Mens chorus (ghosts)
Youre sleeping amongst us,
Were in your dream,
Who are you?
Why call us?
What does this mean?
Disturbing our slumber,
You move so fast.
Shanty
Ghosts of the past.
Tossing and turning,
Somehow Im learning
Secrets Id rather not know.
Cant it be simple?
Why does it have to be so?
Mary dee (as ghost)
I ll always be here,
I ll never leave you,
I ll always be in your mind.
Dreams of the future,
Ghosts that the past left behind.
Women s chorus (ghosts)
You re sleeping amongst us.
We re in your dream.
Who are you?
Why call us?
What does this mean?
Full chorus (ghosts)
Disturbing our slumber,
You move so fast.
Shanty and mary dee (as ghost)
Ghosts of the past.
(later, back in school)
Headmaster
Boys, this is your teacher.
Her name is miss inkley.
She will reach you spanish.
She was in the war
Fighting with the troops.
You may call her sir!
Boys
Sir?
Miss inkley
First of all today
You will learn a song
In a foreign tongue.
You will follow me
As I say the words.
We will now begin...
Tres conejos
Boys
Tres conejos
Miss inkley
En un arbol
Boys
En un arbol
Miss inkley
Tocando
Boys
Tocando
Miss inkley
El tambor
Boys
El tambor.
Miss inkley
Que si
Boys
Que si
Miss inkley
Que no
Boys
Que no
Miss inkley
Que si. lo he visto yo.
Headmaster
Ahem!
Miss inkley
Tres conejos
En un arbol
Tocando
El tambor.
Que si
Que no
Que si.
Lo he visto yo.
Shanty and boys
Tres conejos
En un arbol
Tocando
El tambor.
Que si
Que no
Que si.
Lo he visto yo.
Boys
Tres conejos
Miss inkley
Three rabbits
Boys
En un arbol
Miss inkley
In a tree
Boys
Tocando
Miss inkley
Playing
Boys
El tambor
Miss inkley
The drum.
Boys
Que si
Miss inkley
Why yes
Boys
Que no
Miss inkley
Why no
Boys
Que si. lo he visto yo.
Miss inkley
Why yes. I have seen it,
Headmaster
Ahem!
Tres conejos
En un arbol
Tocando
Shanty and headmaster
El tambor.
Headmaster
Que si
Shanty
Que si
Miss inkley
Que. ..
All
No.
Que si
Lo he visto yo.
Boys and chorus
Not for ourselves,
But for the whole world were we born.
And we were born in liverpool.
Headmaster
Not birmingham
Miss inkley:
Nor edinburgh.
Boys
Not manchester
Shanty
Or solihull.
Boys and chorus
Being born where you were born
Boys and womens chorus
Carries with it certain responsi..
Men
Carries with it certain responsi..
Miss inkley and headmaster
Carries with it certain responsibilities.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tambaroora Jim
He never drew a sword to fight a dozen foes alone,
Nor gave a life to save a life no better than his own.
He lived because he had been born—the hero of my song—
And fought the battle with his fist whene’er he fought a wrong.
Yet there are many men who would do anything for him—
A simple chap as went by name of ‘Tambaroora Jim.’
He used to keep a shanty in the ‘Come-and-find-it Scrub,’
And there were few but knew the name of Tambaroora’s pub.
He wasn’t great in lambing down, as many landlords are,
And never was a man less fit to stand behind a bar—
Off-hand, as most bush natives are, and freckled, tall, and slim,
A careless native of the land was ‘Tambaroora Jim.’
When people said that loafers took the profit from his pub,
He’d ask them how they thought a chap could do without his grub;
He’d say, ‘I’ve gone for days myself without a bite or sup—
‘Oh! I’ve been through the mill and know what ’tis to be hard-up.’
He might have made his fortune, but he wasn’t in the swim,
For no one had a softer heart than ‘Tambaroora Jim.’
One dismal day I tramped across the Come-and-find-it Flats,
With ‘Ballarat Adolphus’ and a mate of ‘Ballarat’s’;
’Twas nearly night and raining fast, and all our things were damp,
We’d no tobacco, and our legs were aching with the cramp;
We couldn’t raise a cent, and so our lamp of hope was dim;
And thus we struck the shanty kept by ‘Tambaroora Jim.’
We dropped our swags beneath a tree, and squatted in despair,
But Jim came out to watch the rain, and saw us sitting there;
He came and muttered, ‘I suppose you haven’t half -a-crown,
‘But come and get some tucker, and a drink to wash it down.’
And so we took our blueys up and went along with him,
And then we knew why bushmen swore by ‘Tambaroora Jim.’
We sat beside his kitchen fire and nursed our tired knees,
And blessed him when we heard the rain go rushing through the trees.
He made us stay, although he knew we couldn’t raise a bob,
And tuckered us until we made some money on a job.
And many times since then we’ve filled our glasses to the brim,
And drunk in many pubs the health of ‘Tambaroora Jim.’
A man need never want a meal while Jim had ‘junk’ to carve,
For ‘Tambaroora’ always said a fellow couldn’t starve.
And this went on until he got a bailiff in his pub,
Through helping chaps as couldn’t raise the money for their grub.
And so, one rainy evening, as the distant range grew dim,
He humped his bluey from the Flats—did ‘Tambaroora Jim.’
I miss the fun in Jim’s old bar—the laughter and the noise,
The jolly hours I used to spend on pay-nights with the boys.
But that’s all past, and vain regrets are useless, I’ll allow;
They say the Come-and-find-it Flats are all deserted now.
Poor ‘Tambaroora’s’ dead, perhaps, but that’s all right with him,
Saint Peter cottons on to chaps like ‘Tambaroora Jim.’
I trust that he and I may meet where starry fields are grand,
And liquor up together in the pubs in spirit-land.
But if you chance to drop on Jim while in the West, my lad,
You won’t forget to tell him that I want to see him bad.
I want to shake his hand again—I want to shout for him—
I want to have a glass or two with ‘Tambaroora Jim.’
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Country Roads ~ Pretty Sally
The diggers came from Bendigo,
From Albury the drovers,
From where the Goulburn waters flow
Came bearded teamsters travelling slow.
And all the brown bush rovers;
And where the road goes winding still
To dropp to Melbourne valley,
They sought the shanty by the hill,
And called for beer and drank their fill,
And sparked with Pretty Sally.
The teamsters halted by the door
To give their horses water
And stood about the bar room floor
To ogle, while they had one more,
The shanty keeper's daughter.
Diggers with gold from creek to claim
About her used to rally,
Shearers and booted stockmen came
And to the hill they gave her name,
For all loved Pretty Sally.
I see her now; a sparkling lass
Brim-full of fun and laughter.
And where the slow teams used to pass,
And swagmen paused to beg a glass,
Now motor cars speed after.
And when I seek the road anew
That dips down to the valley,
I see again that bearded crew,
And, of the lovers, wonder who
At last wed Pretty Sally.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Talbragar
Jack Denver died on Talbragar when Christmas Eve began,
And there was sorrow round the place, for Denver was a man;
Jack Denver’s wife bowed down her head—her daughter’s grief was wild,
And big Ben Duggan by the bed stood sobbing like a child.
But big Ben Duggan saddled up, and galloped fast and far,
To raise the biggest funeral ever seen on Talbragar.
By station home
And shearing shed
Ben Duggan cried, “Jack Denver’s dead!
Roll up at Talbragar!”
He borrowed horses here and there, and rode all Christmas Eve,
And scarcely paused a moment’s time the mournful news to leave;
He rode by lonely huts and farms, until the day was done
And then he turned his horse’s head and made for Ross’s Run.
No Bushman in a single day had ridden half so far
Since Johnson brought the doctor to his wife at Talbragar.
By diggers’ camps
Ben Duggan sped—
At each he cried, “Jack Denver’s dead!
Roll up at Talbragar!”
That night he passed the humpies of the splitters on the ridge,
And roused the bullock-drivers camped at Belinfante’s Bridge;
And as he climbed the ridge again the moon shone on the rise;
The soft white moonbeams glistened in the tears that filled his eyes;
He dashed the rebel drops away—for blinding things they are—
But ’twas his best and truest friend who died on Talbragar.
At Blackman’s Run
Before the dawn,
Ben Duggan cried, “Jack Denver’s gone!
Roll up at Talbragar!”
At all the shanties round the place they‘d beard his horse’s tramp,
He took the track to Wilson’s Luck, and told the diggers’ camp;
But in the gorge by Deadman’s Gap the mountain shades were black,
And there a newly-fallen tree was lying on the track—
He saw too late, and then he heard the swift hoof ’s sudden jar,
And big Ben Duggan ne’er again rode home to Talbragar.
“The wretch is drunk,
And Denver’s dead—
A burning shame!” the people said
Next day at Talbragar.
For thirty miles round Talbragar the boys rolled up in strength,
And Denver had a funeral a good long mile in length;
Round Denver’s grave that Christmas day rough Bushmen’s eyes were dim—
The Western Bushmen knew the way to bury dead like him;
But some returning homeward found, by light of moon and star,
Ben Duggan dying in the rocks, ten miles from Talbragar.
They knelt around.
He raised his head
And faintly gasped, “Jack Denver’s dead,
Roll up at Talbragar!”
But one short hour before he died he woke and understood;
They told him, when he asked them, that the funeral was good;
And then there came into his eyes a sad and softened light.
He said. “Poor Denver’s wife and kids—you’ll see that they’re all right?”
And still the careless Bushmen tell by tent and shanty bar
How Duggan raised a funeral years back on Talbragar.
And far and wide
When Duggan died.
The bushmen of the western side
Rode in to Talbragar.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Within Minster Grounds I Tremble
A thousand dreams are lost it seems as petals in descent
Falling to the ground in forgetting of a world chasing golden chariots across an azure sky
To wonder why
To cry
To sigh
And to try for something greater
These are the things the shake our souls
And make us equal with our maker.
Within Minster grounds I tremble
Seeking a knowledge of myself
So that I alone may reassemble
All that I’ve left lost along my way.
Fairies gather here, leading young girls astray from the dance
They are the brides of slow decay, Pretty maids, lifeless dolls,
Parading cold stares, adorning themselves in the feathers of
Innocence when a look within the eye leaves trembling the lover of love.
The Willow Man is playing the pipes of midnight melody
Hecate, great mother, maiden, crone, grant me the power to rise
Grant me the power to stare into the eyes of my gods, my prophecy, my story fulfilled.
The moon is quilted by blanket clouds, they are gathering,
Soft and slow, small worlds they are gathering, and the
Boundaries between plains are shifting. The crossroad awaits,
There we are to choose, do we loose ourselves in dreams?
Or do we make real all that we feel we could?
The ashtray is overflowing, my bottles empty
My mind aflame with ideas arcane
Here within my shanty.
Still I sit and stare
And make as though I was never there
Here within my shanty
Playing with my hair.
poem by David Lacey
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The Song Of Old Joe Swallow
When I was up the country in the rough and early days,
I used to work along ov Jimmy Nowlett's bullick-drays;
Then the reelroad wasn't heered on, an' the bush was wild an' strange,
An' we useter draw the timber from the saw-pits in the range --
Load provisions for the stations, an' we'd travel far and slow
Through the plains an' 'cross the ranges in the days of long ago.
Then it's yoke up the bullicks and tramp beside 'em slow,
An' saddle up yer horses an' a-ridin' we will go,
To the bullick-drivin', cattle-drovin',
Nigger, digger, roarin', rovin'
Days o' long ago.
Once me and Jimmy Nowlett loaded timber for the town,
But we hadn't gone a dozen mile before the rain come down,
An' me an' Jimmy Nowlett an' the bullicks an' the dray
Was cut off on some risin' ground while floods around us lay;
An' we soon run short of tucker an' terbacca, which was bad,
An' pertaters dipped in honey was the only tuck we had.
An' half our bullicks perished when the drought was on the land,
An' the burnin' heat that dazzles as it dances on the sand;
When the sun-baked clay an' gravel paves for miles the burnin' creeks,
An' at ev'ry step yer travel there a rottin' carcase reeks --
But we pulled ourselves together, for we never used ter know
What a feather bed was good for in those days o' long ago.
But in spite ov barren ridges an' in spite ov mud an' heat,
An' dust that browned the bushes when it rose from bullicks' feet,
An' in spite ov cold and chilblains when the bush was white with frost,
An' in spite of muddy water where the burnin' plain was crossed,
An' in spite of modern progress, and in spite of all their blow,
'Twas a better land to live in, in the days o' long ago.
When the frosty moon was shinin' o'er the ranges like a lamp,
An' a lot of bullick-drivers was a-campin' on the camp,
When the fire was blazin' cheery an' the pipes was drawin' well,
Then our songs we useter chorus an' our yarns we useter tell;
An' we'd talk ov lands we come from, and ov chaps we useter know,
For there always was behind us OTHER days o' long ago.
Ah, them early days was ended when the reelroad crossed the plain,
But in dreams I often tramp beside the bullick-team again:
Still we pauses at the shanty just to have a drop er cheer,
Still I feels a kind ov pleasure when the campin'-ground is near;
Still I smells the old tarpaulin me an' Jimmy useter throw
O'er the timber-truck for shelter in the days ov long ago.
I have been a-driftin' back'ards with the changes ov the land,
An' if I spoke ter bullicks now they wouldn't understand,
But when Mary wakes me sudden in the night I'll often say:
`Come here, Spot, an' stan' up, Bally, blank an' blank an' come-eer-way.'
An' she says that, when I'm sleepin', oft my elerquince 'ill flow
In the bullick-drivin' language ov the days o' long ago.
Well, the pub will soon be closin', so I'll give the thing a rest;
But if you should drop on Nowlett in the far an' distant west --
An' if Jimmy uses doubleyou instead of ar an' vee,
An' if he drops his aitches, then you're sure to know it's he.
An' yer won't forgit to arsk him if he still remembers Joe
As knowed him up the country in the days o' long ago.
Then it's yoke up the bullicks and tramp beside 'em slow,
An' saddle up yer horses an' a-ridin' we will go,
To the bullick-drivin', cattle-drovin',
Nigger, digger, roarin', rovin'
Days o' long ago.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Movement I - War
Boy solo
Non nobis solum
Sed toti mundo nati,
Toti mundo nati.
Boys choir
Non nobis solum
Sed toti mundo nati.
Chorus
(ah), ah
Shanty
The air raid siren slices through
A night in 1942.
A couple sheltering in the gloom
Know all too well this waiting room
For often they have in the past
Been huddled close against the blast
Of doodle bugs and bombs galore,
They cant put up with any more.
So it was that I was born
Into this world one summer morning
And breaking through this brand new day
I hear the sound of warning.
Chorus
(war, ah)
Shanty
Oh will it all end here?
Or is their future round the corner?
Youll be forgiven if youre down on your knees.
What will it be what will it?
What will we be what will we?
What will we see what will we see?
They stay in darkness underground
Until they hear the all clear sound
And weary eyes will search the sky
For any sign of sunlight.
For any sign of sunlight.
Chorus
Mother and father holding their child,
Not knowing what future magic lies inside.
We open our hearts,
You open the door
To peace and happiness for evermore,
For us for evermore.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ben Duggan
Jack Denver died on Talbragar when Christmas Eve began,
And there was sorrow round the place, for Denver was a man;
Jack Denver's wife bowed down her head -- her daughter's grief was wild,
And big Ben Duggan by the bed stood sobbing like a child.
But big Ben Duggan saddled up, and galloped fast and far,
To raise the longest funeral ever seen on Talbragar.
By station home
And shearing shed
Ben Duggan cried, `Jack Denver's dead!
Roll up at Talbragar!'
He borrowed horses here and there, and rode all Christmas Eve,
And scarcely paused a moment's time the mournful news to leave;
He rode by lonely huts and farms, and when the day was done
He turned his panting horse's head and rode to Ross's Run.
No bushman in a single day had ridden half so far
Since Johnson brought the doctor to his wife at Talbragar.
By diggers' camps
Ben Duggan sped --
At each he cried, `Jack Denver's dead!
Roll up at Talbragar!'
That night he passed the humpies of the splitters on the ridge,
And roused the bullock-drivers camped at Belinfante's Bridge;
And as he climbed the ridge again the moon shone on the rise;
The soft white moonbeams glistened in the tears that filled his eyes;
He dashed the rebel drops away -- for blinding things they are --
But 'twas his best and truest friend who died on Talbragar.
At Blackman's Run
Before the dawn,
Ben Duggan cried, `Poor Denver's gone!
Roll up at Talbragar!'
At all the shanties round the place they'd heard his horse's tramp,
He took the track to Wilson's Luck, and told the diggers' camp;
But in the gorge by Deadman's Gap the mountain shades were black,
And there a newly-fallen tree was lying on the track --
He saw too late, and then he heard the swift hoof's sudden jar,
And big Ben Duggan ne'er again rode home to Talbragar.
`The wretch is drunk,
And Denver's dead --
A burning shame!' the people said
Next day at Talbragar.
For thirty miles round Talbragar the boys rolled up in strength,
And Denver had a funeral a good long mile in length;
Round Denver's grave that Christmas day rough bushmen's eyes were dim --
The western bushmen knew the way to bury dead like him;
But some returning homeward found, by light of moon and star,
Ben Duggan dying in the rocks, five miles from Talbragar.
They knelt around,
He raised his head
And faintly gasped, `Jack Denver's dead,
Roll up at Talbragar!'
But one short hour before he died he woke to understand,
They told him, when he asked them, that the funeral was `grand';
And then there came into his eyes a strange victorious light,
He smiled on them in triumph, and his great soul took its flight.
And still the careless bushmen tell by tent and shanty bar
How Duggan raised a funeral years back on Talbragar.
And far and wide
When Duggan died,
The bushmen of the western side
Rode in to Talbragar.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Walk To The Shop
I’m going for a walk
I’m going for a walk to the shop
I’m walking to the shop
I sweat as I walk to the shop
I’m walking to the sweat shop
I’m working at the sweat shop
I work at a sweat shop
I’ll be back in an hour
I’ll be back in hours
I’ll be back in 16 hours
I’ll be back from work in 16 hours
I’ll be back from my 16 hour shift
I work a 16 hour shift
I need to go to the supermarket
I need to go to the supermarket to buy food
I need to buy food
I need to spend my wages on food
I need to spend all of my wages on food
All of my wages is just a few pence
For my wages I only have a few pence
I only get paid a few pence
I’ll be home soon
I’ll be back to my home soon
I’ll be back to my house in this town soon
I’ll be back to my house in this shanty town soon
I’ll be back to my hut in this shanty town soon
I live in this shanty town
I live in a shanty town
I am wearing my pair of Nike running shoes
I have a pair of Nike running shoes
I have lots of pairs of Nike running shoes
I am surrounded by lots of pairs of Nike running shoes
I make lots of pairs of Nike running shoes
I make Nike running shoes
I make your Nike running shoes.
I work in a sweat shop
I work a 16 hour shift
I only get paid a few pence
I live in a shanty town
I make your Nike running shoes
Panama Freighter
Night close in on a shanty town.
Panama freighter wearing rusty brown.
She sails tomorrow and shes homeward bound.
Head up on a lumpy sea.
Im not the only lonely planet rider
In this one horse town, Im thinking.
And I wont over-rate or patronize you.
I know were as different as chalk and cheese;
As black hole winters and salad days
And I wouldnt like your mother much anyway.
But its not her Im taking home with me.
Dont intend to dress you in silver threads
Like some trophy in sublime seclusion.
Wont try to educate or civilize you.
Night close in on a shanty town.
Panama freighter wearing rusty brown.
She sails tomorrow and shes homeward bound
And youre bound to come home with me.
On the panama freighter with me.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Little Worn Out Pony
There's a little worn-out pony this side of Hogan's shack
With a snip upon his nuzzle and a mark upon his back;
Just a common little pony is what most people say,
But then of course they've never heard what happened in his day:
I was droving on the Leichhardt with a mob of pikers wild,
When this tibby little pony belonged to Hogan's child.
One night it started raining – we were camping on a rise,
When the wind blew cold and bleakly and thunder shook the skies;
The lightning cut the figure eight around the startled cattle,
Then down there fell torrential rains and then began a battle.
In a fraction of an instant the wild mob became insane,
Careering through the timber helter-skelter for the plain.
The timber fell before them like grass before a scythe,
And heavy rain in torrents poured from the grimly blackened sky;
The mob rushed ever onward through the slippery sodden ground,
While the men and I worked frantically to veer their heads around;
And then arose an awful cry – it came from Jimmy Rild,
For there between two saplings straight ahead was Hogan's child.
I owned not man or devil, I had not prayed since when,
But I called upon the blessed Lord to show His mercy then;
I shut my eyes and ground my teeth, the end I dared not see
Great God! The cattle – a thousand head – were crashing through the trees.
"God pity us bush children in our darkest hour of need,"
Were the words I prayed although I followed neither church or creed.
Then my right-hand 'man was shouting, the faithful Jimmy Rild,
"Did you see it, Harry, see the way he saved that child?"
"Saved! Saved, did you say?" and I shot upright with a bound,
"Yes, saved," he said, "indeed old man, the child is safe and sound.
I was feeling pretty shaky and was gazing up the track,
Just then a pony galloped, the kid hopped on its back.
"A blinding Bash of lightning then the thunder's rolling crack;
With two hands clasped upon his mane he raced towards the shack."
"Good heavens, man," I shouted then, "if that is truly so,
To blazes with the cattle, to the shanty we must go."
We reached Bill Hogan's shanty in fifteen minutes' ride,
Then left our horses standing and wildly rushed inside.
The little child was there unhurt but shivering with fear,
And Hogan told us, "Yes, thank God, there's the pony brought her here."
There's a little worn-out pony just this side of Hogan's shack
With a snip upon his nuzzle and a mark upon his back;
Just a common little pony is what most people say,
But I doubt if there's his equal in the pony world today.
poem by Anonymous Oceania
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Taking His Chance
They stood by the door of the Inn on the Rise;
May Carney looked up in the bushranger's eyes:
`Oh! why did you come? -- it was mad of you, Jack;
You know that the troopers are out on your track.'
A laugh and a shake of his obstinate head --
`I wanted a dance, and I'll chance it,' he said.
Some twenty-odd bushmen had come to the `ball',
But Jack from his youth had been known to them all,
And bushmen are soft where a woman is fair,
So the love of May Carney protected him there;
And all the short evening -- it seems like romance --
She danced with a bushranger taking his chance.
`Twas midnight -- the dancers stood suddenly still,
For hoofs had been heard on the side of the hill!
Ben Duggan, the drover, along the hillside
Came riding as only a bushman can ride.
He sprang from his horse, to the shanty he sped --
`The troopers are down in the gully!' he said.
Quite close to the homestead the troopers were seen.
`Clear out and ride hard for the ranges, Jack Dean!
Be quick!' said May Carney -- her hand on her heart --
`We'll bluff them awhile, and 'twill give you a start.'
He lingered a moment -- to kiss her, of course --
Then ran to the trees where he'd hobbled his horse.
She ran to the gate, and the troopers were there --
The jingle of hobbles came faint on the air --
Then loudly she screamed: it was only to drown
The treacherous clatter of slip-rails let down.
But troopers are sharp, and she saw at a glance
That someone was taking a desperate chance.
They chased, and they shouted, `Surrender, Jack Dean!'
They called him three times in the name of the Queen.
Then came from the darkness the clicking of locks;
The crack of the rifles was heard in the rocks!
A shriek and a shout, and a rush of pale men --
And there lay the bushranger, chancing it then.
The sergeant dismounted and knelt on the sod --
`Your bushranging's over -- make peace, Jack, with God!'
The bushranger laughed -- not a word he replied,
But turned to the girl who knelt down by his side.
He gazed in her eyes as she lifted his head:
`Just kiss me -- my girl -- and -- I'll -- chance it,' he said.
poem by Henry Lawson
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