This is a favourite of mine, especially the first two lines, to me, they are evocative of the spirit of the Goldfields:
Oh! Who could paint a Goldfields and paint the picture right?
As old adventurers saw it in early morning light.
The yellow mounds of mullock with spots of red and white
The scattered quartz that glistens like diamonds in the light
Hear the fall of timber from distant flats and fells
The pealing of the anvils as clear as clear as little bells
The rattle of the cradle, the clack of windlass poles,
The flutter of the crimson flags above the golden holes
Ah! Then their hearts were bolder and if Dame Fortune frowned,
Their swag they’d lightly shoulder and tramp to other grounds
Oh! They were lion-hearted, who gave our country birth
Stout sons of Stoutest Fathers born from all the lands on earth.
Those Golden Days have vanished, and altered as the scene,
The diggings are deserted now, the camping grounds are green.
By Henry Lawson
Moya Sharp
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I love the work of Henry Lawson and would often use a few of his lines in my prospecting articles.
I chose this poem to be read at my older brother John’s funeral.I had asked for it to be read by our uncle, Dick Pugh . He had a wonderful speaking voice ,educated at new Norcia and taught John and my brother Bevin at the state school in Coolgardie in there early years . Many people will still remember him and his wife Pauline who also trained as a teacher.