1931 (?) "As The Sun Goes Down"

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They buried him just as the sun went down,

In wind-swept, good old Boulia town;

A few last words, he was laid to rest

As the red sun sank in a purple West.

Only one more gap in the old-time crowd.

One more last prize, a coffin and a shroud,

Thus he passes, true, straight "Old Bill",

And the sun sank over the distant hill.

I remember when last we met, quite well,

'Twas out in front of the royal Hotel,

He was making home for his six by eight,

I was off next day for the border gate,

We stopped, shook hands, and these words did frame

"Good-bye, good luck, and play the game"

I say, when my last long stage is pass'd

And my hopples snap as they must at last,

As they girth me up for that last long ride

From the droving camps and the station's side,

When I'm called no more from my cosy bed,

To stand my watch round a thousand head,

While they coo-ee loud at the dip-yard wing,

And the big wild pikers rush and ring.

Then I ask no more than my old mate Bill

Just a good, deep grave on a gravely hill,

Where the morning star shall blaze and shine,

And the Bullen bird may pipe his line,

The sun may rise-turn-drift away,

And the whirling dust storms blow all day,

But I'll rest more easy and shall not frown,

If they bury me - just as the sun goes down.

                                                      Dave

c.f. September 10, 1972