Explore "The Swagman's Rest" by Andrew Barton Paterson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
We buried old Bob where the bloodwoods wave / At the foot of the Eaglehawk; / We fashioned a cross on the old man's grave, / For fear that his ghost might walk; / We carved his name on a bloodwood tree, / With the date of his sad decease, / And in place of 'Died from effects of spree', / We wrote 'May he rest in peace'.
For Bob was known on the Overland, / A regular old bush wag, / Tramping along in the dust and sand, / Humping his well-worn swag. / He would camp for days in the river-bed, / And loiter and 'fish for whales'. / 'I'm into the swagman's yard,' he said, / 'And I never shall find the rails.'