Read "Collected Poetry" by Andrew Barton Paterson online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Our fathers, brave men were and strong, And whisky was their daily liquor; They used to move the world along In better style than now--and quicker. Elections then were sport, you bet! A trifle rough, there's no denying When two opposing factions met The skin and hair were always flying.
When "cabbage-trees" could still be worn Without the question, "Who's your hatter?" There dawned a bright election morn Upon the town of Parramatta. A man called Jones was all the go The people's friend, the poor's protector; A long, gaunt, six-foot slab of woe, He sought to charm the green elector.