Holiday Hunter Australia www.holidayhunter.com.au Holiday in Australia Discover Australia Australian Holiday




   Privacy Statement   Disclaimer   Terms & Conditions   Advertise   Contact Us   Links   Feedback   Social Media

© Holiday Hunter (Aust) Pty Ltd   A.C.N. 146 460 479   A.B.N. 27 146 460 479   

Home
Share on Facebook Share on Twitter Share on Tumblr Share on Delicious Share on Digg Share on Google Bookmarks Share on LinkedIn Share on LiveJournal Share on Newsvine Share on Reddit Share on Stumble Upon Share via e-mail Print

Latest NEWS

Local Weather

White Pages

Dedicated to Australia's men and women who fight to keep us safe

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 Hobsons 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.

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.


(AB "Banjo" Paterson)