The Man From Snowy River | Page 3

or phrases will be capitalized.?Lines longer than 75 characters have been broken according to metre, and the continuation is indented two spaces. Also,?some obvious errors, after being confirmed against other sources, have been corrected.]
[Note on content: Banjo Paterson and Henry Lawson were writing for the Sydney `Bulletin' in 1892 when Lawson suggested a `duel' of poetry to increase the number of poems they could sell to the paper. It was apparently entered into in all fun, though there are reports that Lawson was bitter about it later. `In Defence of the Bush', included in this selection, was one of Paterson's replies to Lawson.]
[The 1913 printing (Sydney, Fifty-third Thousand) of the Second Edition (first published in 1902) was used in the preparation of this etext. First edition was first published in 1895.]
THE MAN FROM SNOWY RIVER AND OTHER VERSES by A. B. Paterson ("The Banjo") with preface by Rolf Boldrewood
Preface
It is not so easy to write ballads descriptive of the bushland of Australia as on light consideration would appear. Reasonably good verse on the subject has been supplied in sufficient quantity.?But the maker of folksongs for our newborn nation requires?a somewhat rare combination of gifts and experiences.?Dowered with the poet's heart, he must yet have passed his `wander-jaehre' amid the stern solitude of the Austral waste -- must have ridden the race in the back-block township, guided the reckless stock-horse adown the mountain spur, and followed the night-long moving, spectral-seeming herd `in the droving days'. Amid such scarce congenial surroundings comes oft that finer sense which renders visible bright gleams of humour, pathos, and romance, which,?like undiscovered gold, await the fortunate adventurer.?That the author has touched this treasure-trove, not less delicately than distinctly, no true Australian will deny. In my opinion this collection comprises the best bush ballads written?since the death of Lindsay Gordon.
Rolf Boldrewood
A number of these verses are now published for the first time, most of the others were written for and appeared in "The Bulletin" (Sydney, N.S.W.), and are therefore already widely known?to readers in Australasia.
1. B. Paterson
Prelude
I have gathered these stories afar,?In the wind and the rain,?In the land where the cattle camps are,?On the edge of the plain.?On the overland routes of the west,?When the watches were long,?I have fashioned in earnest and jest?These fragments of song.
They are just the rude stories one hears?In sadness and mirth,?The records of wandering years,?And scant is their worth?Though their merits indeed are but slight,?I shall not repine,?If they give you one moment's delight,?Old comrades of mine.
Contents
Prelude
I have gathered these stories afar,
The Man from Snowy River
There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around
Old Pardon, the Son of Reprieve
You never heard tell of the story?
Clancy of the Overflow
I had written him a letter which I had, for want of better
Conroy's Gap
This was the way of it, don't you know --
Our New Horse
The boys had come back from the races
An Idyll of Dandaloo
On Western plains, where shade is not,
The Geebung Polo Club
It was somewhere up the country, in a land of rock and scrub,
The Travelling Post Office
The roving breezes come and go, the reed beds sweep and sway,
Saltbush Bill
Now this is the law of the Overland that all in the West obey,
A Mountain Station
I bought a run a while ago,
Been There Before
There came a stranger to Walgett town,
The Man Who Was Away
The widow sought the lawyer's room with children three in tow,
The Man from Ironbark
It was the man from Ironbark who struck the Sydney town,
The Open Steeplechase
I had ridden over hurdles up the country once or twice,
The Amateur Rider
HIM going to ride for us! HIM --?with the pants and the eyeglass and all.
On Kiley's Run
The roving breezes come and go
Frying Pan's Theology
Scene: On Monaro.
The Two Devines
It was shearing-time at the Myall Lake,
In the Droving Days
`Only a pound,' said the auctioneer,
Lost
`He ought to be home,' said the old man,?`without there's something amiss.
Over the Range
Little bush maiden, wondering-eyed,
Only a Jockey
Out in the grey cheerless chill of the morning light,
How M'Ginnis Went Missing
Let us cease our idle chatter,
A Voice from the Town
I thought, in the days of the droving,
A Bunch of Roses
Roses ruddy and roses white,
Black Swans
As I lie at rest on a patch of clover
The All Right 'Un
He came from `further out',
The Boss of the `Admiral Lynch'
Did you ever hear tell of Chili? I was readin' the other day
A Bushman's Song
I'm travellin' down the Castlereagh, and I'm a station hand,
How Gilbert Died
There's never a stone at the sleeper's head,
The Flying Gang
I served my time, in the days gone by,
Shearing at Castlereagh
The bell is set a-ringing, and the engine gives a toot,
The Wind's Message
There came a whisper down the Bland between the dawn and dark,
Johnson's Antidote
Down along the Snakebite River, where the overlanders camp,
Ambition and Art
I am the maid of the lustrous eyes
The Daylight is Dying
The daylight is dying
In Defence of the