I had but a penny to carry for luck
I hadn't a cent for the spending,
But I shook up my head, like a wallaroo buck,
So little I cared for the sending ;
And never a hare went lighter, of foot,
Than I where the brown wood-swallows
Hung like bees in a swarm to a shoot,
And box-trees, scented the hollows.
Then up with sugarbag,
Quartpot and swag,
The sun to call us when night is over,
To chuck in the log,
And call up the dog,
And away on the track as a rover.
We will go where never a clock can be heard,
Or a watch that calls for the winding ;
Where the sough of the wind, the cry of a bird,
Are the only sounds for the minding.
And the kangaroo doe shall nip on a blade,
And her fawn come nibbling after,
As we lie at rest in the thick of the shade,
The length of a tree our rafter.
Then up with sugarbag,
Quartpot and swag,
And away on the track as a rover.
To chuck in the log
And whistle the dog,
With rest at night when the day is over.
The waster clings to the lamp and the street,
But the battler makes for the rivers.
And he tells their names as though they were sweet,
For they still are the best of givers.
There's fish in the shallows, duck in the swamp,
And brolga yet for the hunting,
With a log for the back, a shade for the camp,
And the good wood smoke for the bunting.
Then up with sugarbag,
Quartpot and swag,
And away on the track as a rover,
To chuck in the log,
And whistle' the dog,
And to sleep when the day is over,
MARY GILMORE.
Notes
From the Sydney Newspaper The Australian Worker 13 Nov 1929 p. 5.
The incredible Mary Gilmore edited the Women's Page of The Worker for many years and composed many hundreds of poems. Gilmore died at the age of 97 and was accorded a state funeral, a rare honour for a writer. She was featured on the reverse of the Australian ten-dollar note since 1993.
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