Explore "Collected Poetry" by Andrew Barton Paterson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Chris Watson, of the Parliament, / By his Caucus Gods he swore / That the great Labor Party / Should suffer wrong no more. / By his Caucus Gods he swore it, / And named a trysting day, / And bade his Socialists ride forth, / East and west and south and north, / To summon his array.
East and west and south and north / The Socialists ride fast, / And every town in New South Wales / Has heard their trumpet's blast. / Shame to the false elector / Who lingers in his hole, / While Watson and his myrmidons / Are riding to the poll.