The New Chum Jackeroo

Let bushmen think as bushmen will,     And say whateer they choose,     I hate to hear the stupid sneer     At New Chum Jackaroos.     He may not ride as you can ride,     Or do what you can do;     But sometimes youd seem small beside     The New Chum Jackaroo.     His share of work he never shirks,     And through the blazing drought,     He lives the old things down, and works     His own salvation out.     When older, wiser chums despond     He battles brave of heart,     Twas he who sailed of old beyond     The margin of the chart.     Twas he who proved the world was round,     In crazy square canoes;     The lands youre living in were found     By New Chum Jackaroos.     He crossed the deserts hot and bare,     From barren, hungry shores,     The plains that you would scarcely dare     With all your tanks and bores.     He fought a way through stubborn hills     Towards the setting sun,     Your fathers all and Burke and Wills     Were New Chums, every one.     When England fought with all the world     In those brave days gone by,     And all its strength against her hurled,     He held her honour high.     By Southern palms and Northern pines,     Whereer was life to lose,     She held her own with thin red lines     Of New Chum Jackaroos.     Through shot and shell and solitudes,     Wherever feet have gone,     The New Chums fought while eye-glass dudes     And Johnnies led them on.     And though he wear a foppish coat,     And these old things forget,     In stormy times Id give a vote     For Cuffs and Collars yet.