FREEDOM ON THE WALLABY.

(Written for “THE WORKER”  Brisbane, May 16, 1891)

Australia's a big country

An' Freedom's humping bluey,

An' Freedom's on the wallaby

Oh don't you hear'er cooey.

She's just begun to boomerang,

She'll knock the tyrants silly,

She's goin' to light another fire

And boil another billy.

Our fathers toiled for bitter bread

While loafers thrived beside'em,

But food to eat and clothes to wear,

Their native land denied'em

An' so they left that native land

In spite of their devotions,

An' so they come, or if they stole,

Were sent across the ocean.

Then freedom couldn't stand the glare

Of Royalty's regalia,

She left the loafers where they were

An' come out to Australia,

But now across the mighty main

The chains have come ter bind her,

She little thought to see again

The wrongs she left behind her.

Our parent's toiled to make a home,

Hard grubbin' 'twas an' clearin',

They wasn't crowded much with Lords

When they was pioneerin'

But now that we have made the land

A garden full of promise,

Old Greed must' crook 'is dirty hand

An come ter take from us.

So we must fly a rebel flag

As others did before us,

And we must sing a rebel song

And join in rebel chorus.

We'll make the tyrants feel the sting,

O' those that they would throttle;

They needn't say the fault is ours

If blood should stain the wattle.

                                                 

                                                       Henry Lawson.