Dreaming to-day in a forest green
	Where the great gums rake the sky,
My thoughts turn back to another scene
	And to old days, long gone by;
To a land of youth, and a youth's employ,
	And - to filch another's phrase -
To the men who were boys, when I was a boy,
	In the long gone Laura days.


To a little town that nestles down
	By the hills of Beetaloo,
Where a youth dreamed dreams of fair renown,
	And a man's ambition grew,
'Twas here his earliest songs were sung
	And he won his earliest praise
From men who were young when he was young
	In the long gone Laura days.


Spicer, Stockdale, Ballantyne, 
	Marrie, Mitchell and Braund;
How many a right good pal of mine
	Has gone from that sunlit land.
How many a man, how many a lad, 
	Whose head now slowly greys,
To a song grew glad as I grew glad
	In those long gone Laura days.


Susman, Sibly and Dr Cook,
	Blume and Barrington,
Oh! the lives of some are a long-closed book,
	But many a tale runs on.
Hollis and Harvey, Chandler, Green 
	Are gone their various ways,
But I see them all in the olden scene
	Of the long gone Laura days.


I see them still, I see the town
	Under those scrub-clad hills,
The shops where the quiet street runs down,
	Wilson, Rowland, Bills.
Taylor, Weste, Felstead too,
	Cole of the kindly ways,
And many other friends I knew
	In the long gone Laura days.


And the names of some come slow to mind,
	But the faces greet me clear,
And I hold them all as men most kind,
	As I hold the old town dear;
And so in memory to the end
	That old time picture stays,
For I see each face as a faithful friend
	Of the far off Laura days.


To the ladies all I lift a glass,
	And toast with a right good will,
Every matron, every lass, who
	Shine in memory still,
Fair would I hymn them all in rhyme
	With soaring song of praise,
Friends of mine from a golden time
	In the long gone Laura days.


When the evening sun slants through the gums,
	By my forest-rimmed abode,
Once more the old clear picture comes,
	And my mind drifts down the road;
Back to the town by Beetaloo,
	Where the Rocky River strays;
Back to the old kind friends I knew
	In the dear dead Laura days.

This poem was sent to the township of Laura on the occasion of their Golden Jubilee in 1932.