Saltbush Bill J.P., and Other Verses | Page 3

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Saltbush Bill, J.P., and Other Verses
By A. B. Paterson
[Andrew
Barton ("Banjo") Paterson, Australian poet & journalist. 1864-1941.]
[Note on text: Italicized lines and stanzas are marked by tildes (~).
Italicized words or phrases are CAPITALISED. Lines longer than 78
characters are broken and the continuation is indented two spaces.
Some obvious errors have been corrected (see Notes).]
Saltbush Bill, J.P., and Other Verses
By A. B. Paterson
Author of "The Man from Snowy River, and Other Verses",
"Rio
Grande, and Other Verses", and "An Outback Marriage".
Note
Major A. B. Paterson has been on active service in Egypt
for the past
eighteen months. The publishers feel it incumbent on them to say that
only a few of the pieces in this volume have been seen by him in proof;
and that he is not responsible for the selection, the arrangement or the
title of "Saltbush Bill, J.P., and Other Verses".
Table of Contents
Song of the Pen
Not for the love of women toil we, we of the craft,
Song of the Wheat
We have sung the song of the droving days,
Brumby's Run
It lies beyond the Western Pines
Saltbush Bill on the Patriarchs
Come all you little rouseabouts and
climb upon my knee;

The Reverend Mullineux
I'd reckon his weight at eight-stun-eight,
The Wisdom of Hafiz
My son, if you go to the races to battle with
Ikey and Mo,
Saltbush Bill, J.P.
Beyond the land where Leichhardt went,
The Riders in the Stand
There's some that ride the Robbo style, and
bump at every stride;
Waltzing Matilda
Oh! there once was a swagman camped in the
Billabong,
An Answer to Various Bards
Well, I've waited mighty patient while
they all came rolling in,
T.Y.S.O.N.
Across the Queensland border line
As Long as your Eyes are Blue
Wilt thou love me, sweet, when my
hair is grey
Bottle-O!
I ain't the kind of bloke as takes to any steady job;
The Story of Mongrel Grey
This is the story the stockman told,
Gilhooley's Estate
Oh, Mr. Gilhooley he turned up his toes,
The Road to Hogan's Gap
Now look, you see, it's this way like,
A Singer of the Bush
There is waving of grass in the breeze
"Shouting" for a Camel
It was over at Coolgardie that a mining
speculator,
The Lost Drink
I had spent the night in the watch-house --
Mulligan's Mare
Oh, Mulligan's bar was the deuce of a place

The Matrimonial Stakes
I wooed her with a steeplechase, I won her
with a fall,
The Mountain Squatter
Here in my mountain home,
Pioneers
They came of bold and roving stock that would not fixed
abide;
Santa Claus in the Bush
It chanced out back at the Christmas time,
"In Re a Gentleman, One"
We see it each day in the paper,
The Melting of the Snow
There's a sunny Southern land,
A Dream of the Melbourne Cup
Bring me a quart of colonial beer
The Gundaroo Bullock
Oh, there's some that breeds the Devon that's
as solid as a stone,
Lay of the Motor-Car
We're away! and the wind whistles shrewd
The Corner Man
I dreamed a dream at the midnight deep,
When Dacey Rode the Mule
'Twas to a small, up-country town,
The Mylora Elopement
By the winding Wollondilly where the
weeping willows weep,
The Pannikin Poet
There's nothing here sublime,
Not on It
The new chum's polo pony was the smartest pony yet --
The Protest
I say 'e ISN'T Remorse!
The Scapegoat
We have all of us read how the Israelites fled
An Evening in Dandaloo
It was while we held our races --

A Ballad of Ducks
The railway rattled and roared and swung
Tommy Corrigan
You talk of riders on the flat, of nerve and pluck
and pace,
The Maori's Wool
Now, this is just a simple tale to tell the reader
how
The Angel's Kiss
An angel stood beside the bed
Sunrise on the Coast
Grey dawn on the sand-hills -- the night wind
has drifted
The Reveille
Trumpets of the Lancer Corps,
Saltbush Bill, J.P., and Other Verses
~Song of the Pen
Not for the love of women toil we, we of the craft,
Not for the
people's praise;
Only because our goddess made us her own and
laughed,
Claiming us all our days,
Claiming our best endeavour -- body and heart and brain
Given with
no reserve --
Niggard is she towards us, granting us little gain;
Still,
we are proud to serve.
Not unto us is given choice of the tasks we