Jack Moses (well-known to many folk in Wingham and district)
has written a new poem, which goes as follows:
We'll sing the song of the old jumbuck,
And we'll toast the shearer bold;
Well give three cheers for the squatter, too
Who grows our fleece of gold.
So here's the toast to the sun-kissed West,
It's "Wool Ho; mates ahead !"
I can hear the combs go click, click, click,
As the ringer rings the shed.
Do we know the worth of the old jumbuck--
I wonder if we do ?
He keeps the mill wheel turning still.
And he's meat for me and you.
I miss the camps by the wayside now.
As I tramp to the sheds outback,
The shearers ride on their motor cars,
But I like the old bush track.
I love to hear the kooka laugh,
And watch the eagle soar,
And smoke just while the billy boils,
And I don't want any more.
I never see the mallee hen,
Or hear the curlew call,
Or meet with a dinkum bullock team--
What's happened to it all ?
We'll give three cheers for the whisker age--
Their likes we'll never match ;
It was they who bred our flocks and herds,
And started right from scratch.
We'll sing the song of the old jumbuck,
And we'll toast the shearer bold,
We'll give three cheers for the squatter, too,
Who grows our fleece of gold.
Notes
From the Brisbane Newspaper The Wingham Chronicle and Manning River Observer 9 Oct 1934 p. 2.
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