O had you tracked where Kendall* trod
I think you would be kneelin’
Three times a week and thankin’ God
That you are of New Zealan’!
For this I’ll say, to make it short,
An’ keep my tongue from clacken—
The people are a kinder sort
You’re singin’ for, Tom Bracken.
More verses by Henry Lawson
- Years After The War In Australia
- For All The Land To See: A Song Of The Tools
- Written Afterwards
- John Cornstalk
- The Days When We Went Swimming