|
MRS ELLEIN ELMORE Clarence St Merrylands Nov 1985 SITE SOURCE: Folklore Unit - People THE DYING STOCKMANA strapping young stockman lay dyingA saddle supporting his head His two mates around him were crying As he turned on his pillow and said' Wrap me up in my stockwhip and blanket And bury me deep down below Where the jackals and dingoes won't molest me In the shade where the coollbahs grow Cut down a couple of saplings Place one on my head and my toe Carve on them crossed stockwhip and saddle To show there's a stockman below. There's tea in the battered old billy Place the pannikins out in a row And we'll drink to the next merry meeting In the place where all good fellows go Hark! There's the wail of the dingo Watchful and wary I go For it tells the death knell of the stockman In the gloom of the scrub down below And oft in the shade of the twilight When the sweet winds are whispering low And the darkening shadows are falling Sometimes I think of the stockman below. Had I the flight of the bronzewing Far over the plains I would fly Back to the home of my childhood And there I would lay down and die. |