The Bard of Furthest Out

He longed to be a Back-Blocks Bard,
 * And fame he wished to win

He wrote at night and studied hard
 * (He read THE BULLETIN);

He sent in stuff unceasingly,
 * But couldn't get it through;

And so, at last, he came to me
 * To see what I could do.

The poet's light was in his eye,
 * He aimed to be a man;

He bought a bluey and a fly,
 * A brand new billy-can.

I showed him how to roll his swag
 * And "sling it" with the best;

I gave him my old water-bag,
 * And pointed to the west.

"Now you can take the train as far
 * As Blazes if you like—

The wealthy go by motor-car
 * (Some travellers go by bike);

They race it through without a rest,
 * And find it very tame—

But if you tramp it to the west
 * You'll get there just the same.

"(No matter if the hour is late,
 * The morning goes Out-Back),

You do not need a dog nor mate,
 * You'll find them on the track.

You must avoid such deadly rhymes
 * As 'self' and 'elf' and 'shelf'.

But were it as in other times,
 * I'd go with you myself.

"Those days are done for me, but ah!
 * On hills where you shall be,

The wattle and the waratah
 * Are good to smell and see.

But there's a scent, my heart believes,
 * That 'travellers' set higher

Than wattle—’tis the dried gum leaves
 * That light the evening fire.

"The evening fire and morning fire
 * Are one fire in the Bush.

(You'll find the points that you require
 * As towards the west you push.)

And as you pass by ancient ways,
 * Old camps, and mountain springs,

The spirits of the Roaring Days
 * Will whisper many things.

"The lonely ridge-and-gully belt—
 * The spirit of the whole—

It must be seen; it must be felt—
 * Must sink into your soul!

The summer silence—creek-oaks' sigh—
 * The windy, rainy "woosh"—

'Tis known to other men, and I—
 * The Spirit of the Bush!

"So on, and on, through dust and heat,
 * When past the spurs you be—

And you shall meet whom you shall meet,
 * And see what you shall see,

You need not claim the stranger's due,
 * They yield it everywhere,

And mateship is a thing that you
 * Must take for granted there.

"And in the land of Lord-knows-where—
 * Right up and furthest out—

You find a new Australia there
 * That we know nought about.

Live as they live, fight as they fight,
 * Succeed as they succeed,

And then come back again and write
 * For all the world to read."

I've got a note from Hungerford,
 * 'Tis written frank and fair;

The bushman's grim philosophy—
 * The bushman's grin are there.

And tramping on through rain and drought—
 * Unlooked for and unmissed—

I may have sent to furthest out
 * The Great Bush Novelist.