[edit] ON THE ROCKS

[edit] (SYDNEY)

Out on the wide domain we slept, as independents do!
Beneath a big-leafed tree, all in a row!
Penniless seafaring men, the tigers in the Zoo
At midnight roared, oft woke the sleeping show,
We'd hear the ferry siren's hoot, out on the silent bay,
My pillow was an old cheese-cutter hat.
The baronets and M.B.A.'s in rags beside us lay
With hungry, dreaming eyes in moonlight sat!
On windy, starlit nights the waves curled round the rocky shore,
Whiffs to our nostrils crept from Wooloomooloo!
We saw the sailing-ships creep by -from our big bedroom floor!
Glide by in moonlight with their home-bound crew
While Sydney slept. And on cold nights we'd sneak down on the quay
Curl round the funnel warm of some big tramp!
We'd hear the friendly sailor's voice, when dawn crept in from sea,
Breathe in our dreaming ears --" Now, lads, decamp! "

Once in a liner's stokehold deep, like mice we stole below.
I woke: there stood the second engineer!
I saw him peep where three boys slept I He crept off on tip-toe.
A Scotchman never splits that way - no fear!
Next morning with full steam she sailed, swung round upon the tide,
We heard the passengers all say "Goodbye'"
With wistful eyes we watched her go, slow down the great bay glide.
A thousand white hands waved, our hearts did sigh,
As underneath the tropic sun away my thoughts did roam.
When round the point her stern passed out of sight,
I heard her thundering screw in dreams, I saw her rolling home
At sea - and cried myself to sleep that night!

Mail-day, certes! was the great day! Up George Street from the Quay,
We'd go to where the great Post Office stands,
And at a little hole inquire, “Please, anything forme?"
Great Scot! a five-pound note lay in my hands!
Old sailors smacked me on the back; o'erjoyed, I lost my head;
They drank "deep seas," winked, as with pride I paid!Comrades
That night my room rushed round and round, and fathoms deep my bed
Sank thro' the floor as there I helpless laid
From that time forth I went alone. Soft on the window pane
I'd tap, look round before I did inquire,
And those old sailor-men, my friends, for months watched on in vain.
One real great virtue is to be a liar!

I emigrated to the Bush, God only knows where, too;
My shipmate humped the swag, oft cursed and swore!
Right to the skyline gum-trees rose, we camped, made our tea-stew!
No sleep that night; we fought, we heard them roar!
As down the regiments wildly charged, beneath the stars we'd see
The glittering spears that stabbed us 'tween the toes;
Their bodies hung fat with our blood; they danced, they sang with glee,
Those d----d mosquitoes where the wattle blows.

Since Eve and Adam humped the swag, exiled from their first home,
On God's own wilds ne'er was seen such a sight;
For weeks knee.deep in hot, soft sand our staggering legs did roam,
Near trouserless, blind drunk with hot sunlight;
The spinifex soft stabbed our flesh, we still had on our boots.
The station children stared when we appeared!
Our bare legs shook; thank heaven, our shirts hung far below our suits!
The stockman swore, fell off his horse that reared!
 
They gave us food and rigged us out; we learnt to ride like hell!
Went back to Sydney flush and found old friends
Down on the quay all in a row, they sat, did hearken well
To all we said, and there my story ends.
And where are they? Some went to sea, some humped the swag, some died;
Dell went to 'Frisco; John, the old sea cook,
Secured a berth, the ship went down, and he's still there inside;
The worst one shipped for home and wrote a book!
I met the Baronet one day; I said, "Good God, it's you!
And smacked his back; the eyeglass from his eye
Dropped as amazed, his eyebrows raised, he gasped" Can this be true?
Low fellah '" swayed his stick, and passed me by.
With hell behind my blazing eyes I hurried down the Strand;Comrades]]
Thought, "That's the cove that borrowed myoId shirt!"
I yearned to meet him, as of old, in that far lone Bush-land;
He'd gasp! I'd sway the stick --that's one dead cert.







Bush and Sea Rhymes etc (The Walter Scott Publishing Co 1914)
by Arnold Safroni Middleton, circa 1912