Peddling Round The World

When at first in foreign parts
Was her flag unfurled,
England was a Gipsy lass
Peddling round the world.
Sailing on the Spanish Main,
Everywhere you roam,
Peddling in the Persian Gulf
Things shed made at home.
Peddling round the world,
Peddling round the world,
England was a Gipsy lass
Peddling round the world.
England never wanted war,
Not on land or sea,
Other nations rising up
Couldnt let her be.
England only wanted peace,
And the oceans breath;
So there came, in course of time,
Queen Elizabeth.
Queen Elizabeth,
Queen Elizabeth,
Came a plain, bad-tempered queen,
Called Elizabeth.

Queen Elizabeth, she called
Drake, and Raleigh too,
Essex, Howard, and the rest
Of the pirate crew;
See what you can do, she said.
Englands feeling sick,
If you dont, Ill hang you all!
Better do it quick.
Better do it quick, she said,
Better do it quick;
And they knew shed keep her word,
So they did it quick.

Drake and Raleigh sailed away,
(Only Bess they feared)
Cleared the Spanish Main and singed
The King of Spain his beard,
Singed the King of Spain his beard,
And his hair they curled.
England was a Gipsys love
Peddling round the world.
Peddling round the world,
Peddling round the world.
England was a Gipsys love
Peddling round the world.

Once again, when Cromwell came,
England wanted room;
So he lowered Hollands tone,
Smashed the Dutchmans broom.
Sent a message to Algiers;
Made its meaning plain,
On the way they called once more
On the King of Spain.
On the King of Spain,
On the King of Spain:
Called, to jog his memory,
On the King of Spain.

So the years went round and round,
Over hills and flats,
England was a Gipsy wife,
England had her brats;
Peddling in the China Sea,
Far from English ground;
Doing biz with Mrs. Jap,
Peddling all around.
Peddling all around,
Peddling all around;
Making friends with Mrs. Jap,
Peddling all around.


When the war is past and gone,
With its blood and tears;
And the world may count upon
Peace for fifty years,
When the gory battle-flags
Round their sticks are furled,
Then youll see a Gipsy crone
Peddling round the world.
Peddling round the world,
Peddling round the world.
Then youll see a Gipsy crone
A-peddling round the world!
Shawl as old as Josephs coat,
Hair as white as snow,
Mind as bright as Seventeen,
Eyes still like the sloe,
Peddling in the Southern Seas,
Everywhere you roam,
And shell fill her baskets here
With things well make at home.
Things well make at home,
Things well make at home,
Call to fill her baskets here
With things well make at home.

Henry Lawson

Henry Lawson was an Australian writer and poet. Along with Banjo Paterson, he is among the best-known Australian poets and fiction writers of the colonial period and is often called Australia's 'greatest short story writer'. His works frequently document the lives and struggles of rural and outback Australians. Lawson's own life was marked by hardship and struggles including impaired hearing and financial difficulties, which influenced his realist depictions of Australian life. Some of his notable works include 'While the Billy Boils' and 'In the Days When the World was Wide.'

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Gipsy Too

If they missed my face in Farmers Arms
When the landlord lit the lamp,
They would grin and say in their country way,
Oh! hes down at the Gipsy camp!
But theyd read of things in the Daily Mail
That the wild Australians do,
And I cared no day what the world might say,
For I came of the Gipsies too.
Oh! the Gipsy crowd are a mongrel lot,
And a thieving lot and sly!
But Id dined on fowls in the far-off south,
And a mongrel lot was I.
Oh! the Gipsy crowd are a roving gang,
And a sulky, silent crew!
But they managed a smile and a word for me,
For I came of the Gipsies too.

And the old queen looked in my palm one day,
And a shrewd old dame was she:
My pretty young gent, you may say your say,
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Foreign Lands

You may roam the wide seas over, follow, meet, and cross the sun,
Sail as far as ships can sail, and travel far as trains can run;
You may ride and tramp wherever range or plain or sea expands,
But the crowd has been before you, and youll not find Foreign Lands;
For the Early Days are over,
And no more the white-winged rover
Sinks the gale-worn coast of England bound for bays in Foreign Lands.
Foreign Lands are in the distance dim and dreamlike, faint and far,
Long ago, and over yonder, where our boyhood fancies are,
For the land is by the railway cramped as though with iron bands,
And the steamship and the cable did away with Foreign Lands.
Ah! the days of blue and gold!
When the news was six months old,
But the news was worth the telling in the days of Foreign Lands.

Henry Lawson

Queen Hilda Of Virland

I

Queen Hilda rode along the lines,
And she was young and fair;
And forward on her shoulders fell
The heavy braids of hair:
No gold was ever dug from earth
Like that burnished there,
No sky so blue as were her eyes
Had man seen anywhere.

'Twas so her gay court poets sang,
And we believed it true.
But men must fight for golden hair
And die for eyes of blue!
Cheer after cheer, the long half mile
(It has been ever thus),
And evermore her winsome smile
She turned and turned on us.

The Spring-burst over wood and sea,
The day was warm and bright,
Young Clarence stood on my left hand,
Old Withen on the right.
With fifteen thousand men, or more,
With plumes and banners gay,
To sail that day to foreign war,
And ...

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The Distressed Travellers; Or, Labour In Vain.

A New Song, to a Tune never sung before.


I sing of a journey to Clifton,^[1]
We would have performed, if we could;
Without cart or barrow, to lift on
Poor Mary^[2] and me through the mud.
Slee, sla, slud,
Stuck in the mud;
Oh it is pretty to wade through a flood!


So away we went, slipping and sliding;
Hop, hop, à la mode de deux frogs;
Tis near as good walking as riding,
When ladies are dressed in their clogs.
Wheels, no doubt,
Go briskly about,
But they clatter and rattle, and make such a rout.
dialogue
she.
Well! now, I protest it is charming;
How finely the weather improves!
That cloud, though tis rather alarming,
How slowly and stately it moves.
he.
Pshaw! never mind,
Tis ...

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The Three-Decker

Full thirty foot she towered from waterline to rail.
It took a watch to steer her, and a week to shorten sail;
But, spite all modern notions, Ive found her first and best,
The only certain packet for the Islands of the Blest.

Fair held the breeze behind us, twas warm with lovers prayers,
Wed stolen wills for ballast and a crew of missing heirs.
They shipped as Able Bastards till the Wicked Nurse confessed,
And they worked the old three-decker to the Islands of the Blest.

By ways no gaze could follow, a course unspoiled of Cook,
Per Fancy, fleetest in man, our titled berths we took
With maids of matchless beauty and parentage unguessed,
And a Church of England parson for the Islands of the Blest.

We asked no social questions, we pumped no hidden shame,
W...

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Johnsons Wonder

Id been right round by overlands to see the world and life,
And on the boat at Plymouth I met Johnson and his wife;
He was a man who knew the world and wore the know-all smile,
His wife a silly pussy cat, the soft, obedient style.
His constant source of comfort was his life was all serene,
His ceaseless source of wonder was that men could be so green.

There were two women of the world whom Johnson knew by sight,
The one as fair as Southern dawn; the other dark as night,
They played each other off you see, as many sisters do,
They travelled with their uncle dear (their manager, a Jew);
To us the make-up and the game was plainly to be seen,
And Johnson wondered how on earth most men could be so green.

At Naples, as at Genoa, too, they left no room for doubt;

Henry Lawson