Only page of title Fairly Easy
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And the widest waste on earth;
The strangest scenes and the least like home
In the lands of our fathers' birth;
The loneliest land in the wide world then,
And away on the furthest seas,
A land most barren of life for men --
And they won it by twos and threes!
By the camp-fires' ghastly glow,
Where the scrubs were dark as the blacks that crept
With ‘nulla' and spear held low;
Death was hidden amongst the trees,
And bare on the glaring sand
They fought and perished by twos and threes --
And that's how they won the land!
While one reeled on alone --
The dust of Australia's greatest dead
With the dust of the desert blown!
Gaunt cheek-bones cracking the parchment skin
That scorched in the blazing sun,
Black lips that broke in a ghastly grin --
And that's how the land was won!
Through wilderness, flood, and drought;
They worked, in the struggles of early days,
Their sons' salvation out.
The white girl-wife in the hut alone,
The men on the boundless run,
The miseries suffered, unvoiced, unknown --
And that's how the land was won.
But, ruined by blight and drought,
They blazed the tracks to the camps again
In the big scrubs further out.
The worn haft, wet with a father's sweat,
Gripped hard by the eldest son,
The boy's back formed to the hump of toil --
And that's how the land was won!
And the rainless belt, they ride,
The currency lad and the ne'er-do-weel
And the black sheep, side by side;
In wheeling horizons of endless haze
That disk through the Great North-west,
They ride for ever by twos and by threes --
And that's how they win the rest.
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