The Free Selector

(A Song of 1861.)     Ye sons of industry, to you I belong,     And to you I would dedicate a verse or a song,     Rejoicing oer the victory John Robertson has won     Now the Land Bill has passed and the good time has come          Now the Land Bill, &c.     No more with our swags through the bush need we roam     For to ask of another there to give us a home,     Now the land is unfettered and we may reside     In a home of our own by some clear waterside.          In a home of our own, &c.     On some fertile spot which we may call our own,     Where the rich verdure grows, we will build up a home.     There industry will flourish and content will smile,     While our children rejoicing will share in our toil.          While our children, &c.     We will plant our garden and sow our own field,     And eat from the fruits which industry will yield,     And be independent, what we long for have strived,     Though those that have ruled us the right long denied.          Though those that have ruled us, &c.