The Call of the North
Oh! the western wind is blowing--
So there's rain and cold in store,
And the teams have long been going
Down the road to Mullewa:
To where tropic sun is gleaming
And the fragrant winds blow free;
I've awakened from my dreaming,
And the North is calling me.
Oh! the steam is in the boiler
In the engine-room below,
And upon the board each toiler
Waits to hear the whistle blow:
For the shearing is beginning,
And my heart is fancy free,
And the friction wheels are spinning,
And the North is calling me.
Arid so Northward I am going,
For I cannot linger here,
For the starting whistle's blowing,
And the 'guns' are into gear:
So to be there I am yearning,
I will hail the sheds with glee,
For the money wheels are turning,
And the North is calling me.
Notes
Jack Sorensen, Maida Vale. Jack Sorensen was born in Western Australia, a second generation Australian of Danish, Irish and English heritage. He began his working life as an orchardist on his family's property in Maida Vale, Perth, and then worked as a shearer on stations in the Murchison, Gascoyne and Kimberleys. In 1936 he returned to Perth and began work as a representative of the United Press, travelling throughout Western Australia.