• The Wild Colonial Boy
• Frank Gardiner
• Bold Jack Donohue
• Jim Jones
• Van Diemen's Land
• The Broken-Down Squatter
• The Streets of Forbes
• Ye Sons of Australia
• Laying Information

For the lyrics and melody of over 100 Australian Folk Songs, check Mark Gregory's excellent Australian Songs site.

The Wild Colonial Boy

There was a Wild Colonial Boy Jack Dowling was his name
Of poor but honest parents was born in Castlemaine
He was his father's favourite and his mother's only joy
And dearly did they always love the Wild Colonial Boy

Chorus
So come along my hearties we'll roam the mountain side
Together we will plunder together we will ride
We'll ride over hills and mountains and gallop over the plains
For we scorn to die in slavery bound down by iron chains

He was scarcely sixteen years of age when he left his father's home
And through Australia's sunny climes the bushranger did roam
He robbed those loyal squatters and their flocks he did destroy
And a terror to Australia was the Wild Colonial Boy

Oh Jack strolled out one morning and he softly rode along
Listening to the mocking bird their merry laughing song
Up rode three mounted troopers Davis Kelly and Fitzroy
And of course rode up to capture the Wild Colonial Boy

"Surrender now Jack Dowling you see there's three to one
Surrender in the Queen's name you outlaw plundering son"
Jack drew a pistol from his belt and he flashed the little toy
"I'll fight but not surrender" cried the Wild Colonial Boy

Now he fired at trooper Kelly and he brought him to the ground
And in return from Davis he received a dreadful wound
With one leg in the saddle still firing at Fitzroy
Now that's the way they captured the Wild Colonial Boy

Frank Gardiner , he is caught at last, and now in Sydney gaol,
For wounding Sergeant Middleton and robbing the Mudgee mail.
For plundering of the gold escort, and the Carcoar mail also,
And it was for gold they made so bold, and not so long ago.

His daring deeds surprised them all throughout the Sydney land,
For on his friends he gave a call and quickly raised a band,
And fortune always favoured him until the time of late
Until Ben Hall and Gilbert met with their dreadful fate.

Young Vane he has surrendered, Ben Hall's got his death wound,
And as for Johnny Gilbert, near Binalong was found,
He was alone and lost his horse, three troopers came in sight,
And he fought the three most manfully, got slaughtered in the fight.

Farewell, adieu, to outlawed Frank,he was the poor man's friend.
The government has secured him, their laws he did offend,
He boldly stood his trial, and answered in a breath,
"Do what you will, you can but kill, I have no fear of death!"

Day after day they remanded him, escorted from the Bar,
Fresh charges brought against him from neighbours near and far,
And now it is all over, the sentence they have passed.
They sought to find a verdict, and "Guilty!" was at last.

When lives you take, a warning boys; a woman never trust.
She will turn round, I will be bound, Queen's evidence the first.
He's doing two-and-thirty years, he's doomed to serve the Crown,
And well may he say he cursed the day he first met Mrs Brown.

In Dublin town I was brought up that city of great fame
My parents reared me tenderly there's many did the same
Being a wild colonial boy I was forced to cross the main
And for seven long years in New South Wales to wear a convict's chain

Oh I'd been no longer than six months upon Australian shores
When I turned out as a Tory boy as I'd often done before
There was Macnamara from yonder woods and Captain Mackie too
They were the chief associates of bold Jack Donahoe

 
As O'Donahoe was taken for a notorious crime
And sentenced to be hanged all on the gallows high
But when he came to Sydney gaol he left them in a stew
For when they came to call the roll they missed Jack Donahoe

 
As O'Donahoe made his escape to the woods he did repair
Where the tyrants dared not show their face by night and day
And every week in the newspapers there was published something new
Concerning that bold hero boy called brave Jack Donahoe

 
As O'Donahoe was walking one summer's afternoon
Little was his notion that his death should be so soon
When a sergeant of the horse police discharged his carabine
And loudly called to O'Donahoe to fight or else resign

 
Resign to you, you cowardly dogs its a thing I ne'er will do
For I'll range these woods and valleys like a wolf or kangaroo
Before I'll work for Government said bold Jack Donahoe

 
Nine rounds the horse policeman fired till at length a fatal ball
He lodged it in O'Donahoe's breast and it caused him to fall
As he closed his mournful eyes to this world he bid adieu
Good people all both great and small pray for Jack Donahoe

O listen for a moment. lads. and hear me tell my tale,
How o'er the sea from England I was compelled to sail.
The jury says 'He's guilty', and says the judge, says he,
'For life, Jim Jones, I'm sending you across the stormy sea.

'And take my tip before you ship to join the iron gang;
Don't get too gay at Botany Bay, or else you'll surely hang-
Or else you'll hang,' he says, says he, 'and after that, Jim Jones,
High upon the gallows tree the crows will pick your bones.

'You'll have no time for mischief then, remember what I say;
They'll flog the poaching out of you, out there at Botany Bay.'
The waves were high upon the sea, the winds blew up in gales-
I would rather drown in misery than go to New South Wales.

The winds blew high upon the sea, and the pirates came along,
But the soldiers on out convict ship were full five hundred strong.
They opened fire and somehow drove that pirate ship away,
I'd rather have joined that pirate ship than come to Botany Bay.

For day and night the irons clang, and like poor galley-slaves
We toil and toil, and when we die must fill dishonoured graves.
But by and by I'll break my chain; into the bush I'll go,
And join the brave bushrangers there, Jack Donahue and Co.

And some dark night when everything is silent in the town
I'll kill the tyrants one and all, I'll shoot the floggers down;
I'll give the law a little shock, remember what I say:
They'll yet regret they sent Jim Jones in chains to Botany Bay.

 Van Diemen's Land

Come all you gallant poaching boys that ramble free of care,
That rove out on a moonlit night with gun and dog and snare.
The hare and lofty pheasant you have at your command'
Never thinking of your last career upon Van Diemen's Land.

Poor Tommy Brown for Nenagh Town, Jack Murphy and poor Joe,
We was three daring poachers as the gentry well do know.
One night we were trepanned by the keepers hid in the sand,
Who for fourteen years transported us into Van Diemen's Land.

The first day that we landed here upon the fatal shore,
The settlers came around us, some twenty score or more;
They ranked us up like horses and they sold us out of hand,
And they yoked us up to ploughing frames to plough Van Diemen's Land

The hovels that we're living in are built of mud and clay'
With rotten straw for bedding, and to that we daren't say nay.
They fence us in with raging fire, and we slumber as we can,
But it keeps away the wolves and tigers upon Van Diemen's Land.

There was a girl from Newport, Susan Somers was her name,
And she had been transported for playing of the game;
But she took the captain's fancy and he married her out of hand,
And she gives us all good treatment upon Van Diemen's Land

It's often when in slumber I have had a pleasant dream;
With my sweetheart I've been sitting down beside a crystal stream;
Through Ireland I've gone roaming with my sweetheart by the hand;
Then I wake up broken-hearted upon Van Diemen's Land.

So all you lively poaching lads, this warning take from me:
I'd have you quit night walking and avoid bad company,
And throw aside your guns and snares, for let me tell you plain;
If you knew of our misfortunes you would never poach again.

 The Broken-Down Squatter

Come, Stumpy, old man, we must shift while we can,
All your mates in the Paddock are dead;
Let us wave our farewells to Glen Eva's sweet dells,
And the hills where your master was bred,
Together to roam from our drought stricken home
Seems hard that such things have to be,
And it's hard on the horse when he's nought for a boss,
But a broken-down squatter like me.

Chorus:
For the banks are all broken they say,
And the merchants are all up a tree;
When the bigwigs are brought to the bankruptcy court,
What chance for a squatter like me?

No more shall we muster the river for strays,
Or run on the fifteen-mile plain,
Or dash through the scrub by the light of the moon,
Or see the old homestead again.
Leave the sliprailings down, they don't matter much now,
For there's none but the crows left to see,
Perching gaunt in the pine, as though looking to dine
On a broken-down squatter like me.

When the country was cursed with the drought at its worst,
And the cattle were dying in scores
Though down on my luck, I kept up my pluck,
Thinking justice might soften the laws;
But the farce had been played, and the Government aid
Ain't extended to squatters, old son;
When my money was spent, they doubled the rent
And resumed the best part of the run.

 

 The Streets of Forbes

Come all you Lachlan men, and a sorrowful tale I'll tell.
Concerning of a hero bold who through misfortune fell.
His name it was Ben Hall, a man of good renown,
Who was hunted from his station, and like a dog shot down.

Three years he roamed the roads, and he showed the traps some fun;
A thousand pound was on his head, with Gilbert and John Dunn.
Ben parted from his comrades, the outlaws did agree
To give away bushranging and to cross the briny sea.

Ben went to Goobang Creek, and that was his downfall;
For riddled like a sieve was valiant Ben Hall.
'Twas early in the morning upon the fifth of May
When the seven police surrounded him as fast asleep he lay.

Bill Dargin he was chosen to shoot the outlaw dead;
The troopers then fired madly, and filled him full of lead.
They rolled him in a blanket, and strapped him to his prad,
And led him through the streets of Forbes to show the prize they had.

Ye Sons of Australia

Ye sons of Australia forget not your braves,
Bring the wild forest flowers to strew o'er your graves,
Of the four daring heroes whose race it is run,
And place on their tombs the wild laurels they've won.

On the banks of Euroa they made their first rush,
They cleared out at Coppies, then steered through the bush,
Black trackers and troopers soon did them pursue
But cast out their anchor when near them they drew.

The daring Kate Kelly how noble her mien
As she sat on her horse like an Amazon queen,
She rode through the forest revolver at hand'
Regardless of danger, who dare bid her stand.

May the angels protect this young heroine bold
And her name be recorded in letters of gold
Though her brothers were outlaws, she loved them most dear,
And hastened to tell them when danger was near.

But the great God of Mercy who scans all her ways
Commanded grim death to shorten their days,
Straightway to Glenrowan their course did he steer
To slay those bold outlaws and stop their career.

The daring Ned Kelly came forth from the inn,
To wreak his last vengeance he then did begin,
To slaughter the troopers straightway he did go,
And tore up the railway their train to o'erthrow.

But the great God of Mercy, to baulk his intent,
And stop the destruction, a messenger sent,
A person named Curnow, who seemed in great dread,
Cried out to the troopers, 'There's danger ahead!'

But Time hath its changes; how dreadful their fate,
They found out their error when it was too late.
The house was surrounded by troopers two-score,
And also expected a great many more.

The daring Ned Kelly, revolver in hand,
Came to the verandah, the troopers he scanned,
Said he 'You cursed wretches, we do you defy,
We will not surrender, we conquer or die.'

Like the free sons of Ishmael, brought up in the wilds,
Amongst forests and mountains, and rocky defiles
These brave lawless fellows could not be controlled,
And fought ten to one, until dearth we are told.

Next day at Glenrowan, how dreadful the doom,
Of Hart and Dan Kelly shut up in a room,
A trooper named Johnson, set the house all aflame
To burn those bold outlaws, it was a great shame

The daring Kate Kelly came forth from the crowd
And on her poor brother she called out aloud,
'Come forth my dear brother, and fight while you can'
But a ball had just taken the life of poor Dan.

Next morning our hero came forth from the bush
Encased in strong armour his way did he push.
To gain his bold comrades it was his desire -
The troopers espied him, and soon opened fire.

The bullets bound off him just like a stone wall,
His fiendish appearance soon did them appall.
His legs unprotected a trooper soon found,
And a shot well directed brought him to the ground.

Now he arose captured, and stripped off his mail,
Well guarded by troopers and taken to gaol.
Convicted for murder, it grieved him full sore,
His friends and relations his fate may deplore.

Now, all you young fellows take warning by me,
Beware of bushranging, and bad company,
For like many others you may feel the dart
Which pierced the two Kellys, Joe Byrne, and Steve Hart.

Laying Information

'Tis twelve at night, and there's upon the camp,
A foot policeman silent watch is keeping,
And thus he talks and chuckles to himself,
Whilst all his brother traps in bed are sleeping;
The tents I'll stick up next I will not name,
But I'll go and take an observation,
And if they're green enough to sell me grog
Why then I'll go and lay my information.

The night is past, the sun resplendent shines,
As a digger then this trap himself disguises,
And then he goes into a sly-grog store,
Handles the things and asks their various prices;
He blithely talks about the Russian war,
Descants upon the policy of the nation,
And brings away a bottle of brown stout,
Then coolly, goes and lays an information.

He enters, then, another well-known store,
There as before he pitches them his gammon,
He buys some fish, and asks for Bass's ale,
To help wash down the tin of pickled salmon;
The man, completely taken off his guard,
Supplies the bitter without hesitation,
And having dome a jolly morning's work,
The trap goes off and lays an information.

Next morning, the delinquents there are seen
Up at court, with blank and dismal faces,
And soon the sitting magistrates come in,
And on the bench they take their various places;
They have to fork out fifty pounds of course,
And view the trap with bitter indignation,
Who, in conviction, pockets his five notes,
Besides his pay, for every information.