We’re All Australian Now
By A.B. ‘Banjo’ Paterson
Australia takes her pen
in hand
To write a line to you,
To let you fellows
understand
How proud we are of you.
From shearing shed and
cattle run,
From Broome to Hobson's
Bay,
Each native-born
Australian son
Stands straighter up
today.
The man who used to 'hump
his drum',
On far-out Queensland
runs
Is fighting side by side
with some
Tasmanian farmer's sons.
The fisher-boys dropped
sail and oar
To grimly stand the test,
Along that storm-swept
Turkish shore,
With miners from the
west.
The old state jealousies
of yore
Are dead as Pharaoh's
sow,
We're not State children
any more,
We're all Australians
now!
Our six-starred flag that
used to fly
Half-shyly to the breeze,
Unknown where older nations
ply
Their trade on foreign
seas,
Flies out to meet the
morning blue
With Vict'ry at the prow;
For that's the flag the
Sydney flew,
The wide seas know it
now!
The mettle that a race
can show
Is proved with shot and
steel,
And now we know what nations
know
And feel what nations
feel.
The honoured graves
beneath the crest
Of Gaba Tepe hill
May hold our bravest and
our best,
But we have brave men
still.
With all our petty
quarrels done,
Dissensions overthrown,
We have, through what you
boys have done,
A history of our own.
Our old world diff'rences
are dead,
Like weeds beneath the
plough,
For English, Scotch, and
Irish-bred,
They're all Australians
now!
So now we'll toast the
Third Brigade
That led Australia's van,
For never shall their
glory fade
In minds Australian.
Fight on, fight on,
unflinchingly,
Till right and justice
reign.
Fight on, fight on, till
Victory
Shall send you home
again.
And with Australia's flag
shall fly
A spray of wattle-bough
To symbolise our unity,
We're all Australians now.
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