The Australian Stockman by Banjo Paterson

This poetic tribute to the Australian stockman by Banjo Paterson artfully captures the spirit of freedom, resilience, and oneness with nature inherent in the stockman’s wilderness life.

Paterson vividly evokes the landscape through images like mountain ridges, dark creeks, and tea-tree swamps. Personifying features like echoes “joining” the native bird’s song creates a mystical, symbiotic aura.

References to wildlife shying from daylight imply the stockman shares an elemental connection to the ancient rhythms of the land. Descriptions of galloping unfettered across the grasslands convey emancipation.

While romanticized, the poem insightfully defines the stockman by his mastery and reading of the bush. His independence, skill, and contentment in a harsh setting reflect ideals of the emerging Australian national character.

Ultimately, Paterson’s lyrical portrait presents the stockman as Australia’s pioneering emblem – thriving in the wild through inner fortitude and harmony with the environment. The ballad is both a scenic homage and a veneration of the stockman’s spirit.

THE AUSTRALIAN STOCKMAN

The sun peers o’er you wooded ridge and thro’ the forest
dense,
Its golden edge o’er the mountain ledge looks down on the
stockyard fence,
Looks down, looks down, looks down on the stockyard fence;
And dark creeks rush thro’ the tangled brush, when their
shuddering shadows throng
Until they chime in the rude rough rhyme of the wild
goburra’s song.

               Chorus

Till they chime, ha! ha! till they chime, ha! ha! in the
wild goburra’s song;
Till they chime, ha! ha! till they chime, ha! ha! in the
wild goburra’s song.

The night owl to her home hath fled, to shun the glorious
pomp
Of golden day she speeds away to her nest in the tea-tree
swamp;
Away, away to her nest in the tea-tree swamp.

The dingo looks with a timid stare as he stealthily prowls
along,
And his pattering feet in concert beat with the wild goburra’s
song.

Chorus: And they beat, ha! ha! &c.

Oh! let them boast their city’s wealth, who toil in a dusty
town;
Give me the beam on the mountain stream, and the range’s
dark-faced frown–
The stream, the stream, and the range’s dark-faced frown.
When our steed shall pass o’er the quiv’ring grass, and the
crack of the sounding thong
Shall bid the startled echoes join the wild goburra’s song.

Chorus: And they join, ha! ha! &c.