LAWSON, Henry
    
      
    
      
    Our Andy’s gone to battle now
  
    
      
    Our Andy's gone to battle now 
    
      
    'Gainst Drought, the red marauder; 
    
      
    Our Andy's gone with cattle now 
    
      
    Across the Queensland border. 
    
      
    
      
    He's left us in dejection now; 
    
      
    Our hearts with him are roving. 
    
      
    It's dull on this selection now, 
    
      
    Since Andy went a-droving. 
    
      
    
      
    Who now shall wear the cheerful face 
    
      
    In times when things are slackest? 
    
      
    And who shall whistle round the place 
    
      
    When Fortune frowns her blackest? 
    
      
    
      
    Oh, who shall cheek the squatter now 
    
      
    When he comes round us snarling? 
    
      
    His tongue is growing hotter now 
    
      
    Since Andy cross'd the Darling. 
    
      
    
      
    The gates are out of order now, 
    
      
    In storms the `riders' rattle; 
    
      
    For far across the border now 
    
      
    Our Andy's gone with cattle. 
    
      
    
      
    Poor Aunty's looking thin and white; 
    
      
    And Uncle's cross with worry; 
    
      
    And poor old Blucher howls all night 
    
      
    Since Andy left Macquarie. 
    
      
    
      
    Oh, may the showers in torrents fall, 
    
      
    And all the tanks run over; 
    
      
    And may the grass grow green and tall 
    
      
    In pathways of the drover; 
    
      
    
      
    And may good angels send the rain 
    
      
    On desert stretches sandy; 
    
      
    And when the summer comes again 
    
      
    God grant 'twill bring us Andy. 
  
    
      
    
      
    After All
  
    
      
    The brooding ghosts of Australian night have gone from the bush and town; 
    
      
    My spirit revives in the morning breeze, 
    
      
    though it died when the sun went down; 
    
      
    The river is high and the stream is strong, 
    
      
    and the grass is green and tall, 
    
      
    And I fain would think that this world of ours is a good world after all. 
    
      
    
      
    The light of passion in dreamy eyes, and a page of truth well read, 
    
      
    The glorious thrill in a heart grown cold of the spirit I thought was dead, 
    
      
    A song that goes to a comrade's heart, and a tear of pride let fall -- 
    
      
    And my soul is strong! and the world to me is a grand world after all! 
    
      
    
      
    Let our enemies go by their old dull tracks, 
    
      
    and theirs be the fault or shame 
    
      
    (The man is bitter against the world who has only himself to blame); 
    
      
    Let the darkest side of the past be dark, and only the good recall; 
    
      
    For I must believe that the world, my dear, is a kind world after all. 
    
      
    
      
    It well may be that I saw too plain, and it may be I was blind; 
    
      
    But I'll keep my face to the dawning light, 
    
      
    though the devil may stand behind! 
    
      
    Though the devil may stand behind my back, I'll not see his shadow fall, 
    
      
    But read the signs in the morning stars of a good world after all. 
    
      
    
      
    Rest, for your eyes are weary, girl -- you have driven the worst away -- 
    
      
    The ghost of the man that I might have been is gone from my heart to-day; 
    
      
    We'll live for life and the best it brings till our twilight shadows fall; 
    
      
    My heart grows brave, and the world, my girl, is a good world after all.