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A Bunch of Roses

A Bush Christening

A Bush Lawyer

A Bushman's Song

A Change of Menu

A Disqualified Jockey

A Dog's Mistake

A Dream of the Melbourne Cup

A Job for McGuiness

A Motor Courtship

A Mountain Station

A Nervous Govenor

A Rule of the A.J.C.

A Singer of the Bush

A Song of the Pen

A Triolet

A Voice from the Town

A Walgett Episode

Ambition and Art

An Answer to Various Bards

An Emu Hunt

An Evening in Dandaloo

An Idyll of Dandaloo

Anthony Considine

Any Other Time

Banjo Patterson Australian Poet

A. B. (Banjo) Patterson 1

Home | A. B. (Banjo) Patterson | A. B. (Banjo) Patterson 1 | A. B. (Banjo) Patterson 2 | A. B. (Banjo) Patterson 3 | A. B. (Banjo) Patterson 4 | A. B. (Banjo) Patterson 5 | A. B. (Banjo) Patterson 6 | A. B. (Banjo) Patterson 7

A Bushman's Song

by A. B. "Banjo" Paterson

 

I'm travelling down the Castlereagh, and I'm a station-hand,

I'm handy with the ropin' pole, I'm handy with the brand,

And I can ride a rowdy colt, or swing the axe all day,

But there's no demand for a station-hand along the Castlereagh.

So it's shift, boys, shift, for there isn't the slightest doubt

That we've got to make a shift to the stations further out,

With the pack-horse runnin' after, for he follows like a dog.

We must strike across the country at the old jig-jog.

 

This old black horse I'm riding -- if you'll notice what's his brand,

He wears the crooked R, you see -- none better in the land.

He takes a lot of beatin', and the other day we tried,

For a bit of a joke, with a racing bloke, for twenty pound a side.

 

It was shift, boys, shift, for there wasn't the slightest doubt

That I had to make him shift, for the money was nearly out,

But he cantered home a winner, with the other one at the flog --

He's a red-hot sort to pick up with his old jig-jog.

 

I asked a cove for shearin' once along the Marthaguy:

"We shear non-union here," says he. "I call it scab," says I.

I looked along the shearin' floor before I turned to go --

There were eight or ten dashed Chinamen a-shearin' in a row.

 

It was shift, boys, shift, for there wasn't the slightest doubt

It was time to make a shift with the leprosy about.

So I saddled up my horses, and I whistled to my dog,

And I left his scabby station at the old jig-jog.

 

I went to Illawarra, where my brother's got a farm;

He has to ask his landlord's leave before he lifts his arm:

The landlord owns the country-side -- man, woman, dog, and cat,

They haven't the cheek to dare to speak without they touch their hat.

 

It was shift, boys, shift, for there wasn't the slightest doubt

Their little landlord god and I would soon have fallen out,

Was I to touch my hat to him? -- was I his bloomin' dog?

So I makes for up the country at the old jig-jog.

 

But it's time that I was movin', I've a mighty way to go

Till I drink artesian water from a thousand feet below;

Till I meet the overlanders with the cattle comin' down --

And I'll work a while till I make a pile, then have a spree in town.

 

So it's shift, boys, shift, for there isn't the slightest doubt

We've got to make a shift to the stations further out:

The pack-horse runs behind us, for he follows like a log,

And we cross a lot of country at the old jig-jog.

 

As Long As Your Eyes are Blue

At the Melting of the Snow

Australia Today 1916

Australian Scenery

Ave Caesar

Been There Before

Behind the Scenes

Benjamin Bandicoot

Black Harry's Team

Black Swans

Boots

Bottle-O!

Brumby's Run

Buffalo Country

By the Grey Gulf

Camouflage

Cassidy

Clany of the Overflow

Come By Chance

Commandeering

Conroy's Gap

Do They Know

Driver Smith

El Mahdi to the Australian Troops

Father Riley's Horse