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The roving breezes come and go, the reed beds sweep and sway,
The sleepy river murmurs low, and loiters on its way,
It is the land of lots o' time along the Castlereagh.

The old man's son had left the farm, he found it dull and slow,
He drifted to the great North-west where all the rovers go.
"He's gone so long," the old man said, "he's dropped right out of mind,
But if you'd write a line to him I'd take it very kind;
He's shearing here and fencing there, a kind of waif and stray,
He's droving now with Conroy's sheep along the Castlereagh.
The sheep are travelling for the grass, and travelling very slow;
They may be at Mundooran now, or past the Overflow,
Or tramping down the black soil flats across by Waddiwong,
But all those little country towns would send the letter wrong,
The mailman, if he's extra tired, would pass them in his sleep,
It's safest to address the note to 'Care of Conroy's sheep',
For five and twenty thousand head can scarcely go astray,
You write to 'Care of Conroy's sheep along the Castlereagh'."

By rock and ridge and riverside the western mail has gone,
Across the great Blue Mountain Range to take that letter on.
A moment on the topmost grade while open fire doors glare,
She pauses like a living thing to breathe the mountain air,
Then launches down the other side across the plains away
To bear that note to "Conroy's sheep along the Castlereagh".

And now by coach and mailman's bag it goes from town to town,
And Conroy's Gap and Conroy's Creek have marked it "further down".
Beneath a sky of deepest blue where never cloud abides,
A speck upon the waste of plain the lonely mailman rides.
Where fierce hot winds have set the pine and myall boughs asweep
He hails the shearers passing by for news of Conroy's sheep.
By big lagoons where wildfowl play and crested pigeons flock,
By camp fires where the drovers ride around their restless stock,
And past the teamster toiling down to fetch the wool away
My letter chases Conroy's sheep along the Castlereagh.

First published in The Bulletin, 10 March 1894, and again in the same magazine on 22-29 December 1981;
and later in
The Man from Snowy River and Other Verses by A. B Paterson, 1895;
An Anthology of Australian Verse edited by Bertram Stevens, 1907;
The Golden Treasury of Australian Verse edited by Bertram Stevens,1909;
The Children's Treasury of Australian Verse edited by Bertram Stevens,1913;
Selections from the Australian Poets edited by Bertram Stevens,1925;
The Oxford Book of Australian Verse edited by Walter Murdoch, 1945;
Australia Fair: Poems and Paintings edited by Douglas Stewart, 1974;
The Collins Book of Australian Poetry compiled by Rodney Hall, 1981;
The Collected Verse of A. B. Paterson by A.B. Paterson, 1982;
Singer of the Bush, A.B. (Banjo) Paterson: Complete Works 1885-1900 compiled by Rosamund Campbell and Philippa Harvie, 1983;
The Illustrated Treasury of Australian Verse compiled by Beatrice Davis, 1984;
The New Oxford Book of Australian Verse edited by Les Murray, 1986;
Banjo Paterson's Poems of the Bush by A.B. Paterson, 1987;
The Banjo's Best-Loved Poems compiled by Rosamund Campbell and Philippa Harvie,1989;
A Vision Splendid: The Complete Poetry of A.B.'Banjo' Paterson by A.B. Paterson, 1990;
Selected Poems: A.B. Paterson compiled by Les Murray, 1992;
A.B. 'Banjo' Paterson: Bush Ballads, Poems, Stories and Journalism edited by Clement Semmler, 1992;
Banjo Paterson: His Poetry and Prose compiled by Richard Hall, 1993;
The Illustrated Treasury of Australian Verse compiled by Beatrice Davis, 1996;
Seven Centuries of Poetry in English edited by John Leonard, 2003;
80 Great Poems From Chaucer to Now edited by Geoff Page, 2006;
Sixty Classic Australian Poems edited by Geoff Page, 2009; and
The Puncher & Wattmann Anthology of Australian Poetry edited by John Leonard, 2009.

Author reference sites: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography, Australian Poetry Library

See also.

A long-legged, lanky man was he, with grizzly beard and grey,
A stranger at the shanty -- for he came from far away;
And we noticed that his harness was the product of the 'roo,
      And his boots and -- strike me fat!
      There was hair upon his hat!
And he said: "Oi am a grazin' man -- the only Squattheroo!"

So we took him into "Mother's," and we wet him at the bar,
And he spoke about his cattle -- how he branded them with tar,
And mustered by the thousand out upon the lone Paroo.
      They were not the common kine,
      Neither were they grunting swine --
"Faith! They only go on two legs yit," observed the Squatteroo.

He said he'd learnt how garden-stuff was once the rankest weeds,
How men evolved from puny stock the very best of breeds;
And then he crossed the Darling to domesticate the 'roo.
      He would choose his paramours,
      Make him locomote on fours --
Then he'd be a source of profit to the only Squatreroo!

He would make of him a packer, he would teach him not to hop,
And when he had induced the brute his former end to drop,
He would send the horizontal fact some day to Sydney Zoo.
      "Oi am shure compulsive use
      Of the forelegs will produce
What ye'd call an abnormality," averted the Squatteroo.

"There's no dacent occupation for a baste thot stands on ind!
But, he'll be a perfect jewel whin his little paws descind!
And he'll thrott around the shanty loike O'Doolan's pig -- Hooroo!
      He'll be yoked in pairs like oxen,
      He'll forgit his thricks o' boxin',
An' we'll thrain him for the races," said the backblock Squatteroo.

Then he swung into his saddle, said he must be making tracks;
No, he didn't want no stockmen, he employed a hundred blacks,
Who were out a-branding joeys now upon the lone Paroo.
      By-and-by we'd see them riding
      On 'roo-back to Cobar siding,
A-driving kangaroo; for him -- that long-legged Squatteroo!

First published in The Bulletin, 8 March 1902

Author reference sites: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography

See also.

We trucked the cows to Homebush, saw the girls, and started back,
Went West through Cunnamulla, and got to the Eulo track.
Camped a while at Gonybibil -- but, Lord! you wouldn't know
It for the place where you and Mick were stockmen long ago.

Young Merino bought the station, fenced the run and built a 'shed',
Sacked the stockmen, sold the cattle, and put on sheep instead,
But he wasn't built for Queensland. and every blessed year
One hears of 'labour troubles' when Merino starts to shear.

There are ructions with the rouseabouts, and shearers' strikes galore!
The likes were never thought of in the cattle days of yore.
And slowly, round small paddocks now, the 'sleeping lizards' creep,
And Gonybibil's beggared since the country carried sheep.

Time was we had the horses up ere starlight waned away,
The billy would be boiling by the breaking of the day;
And our horses -- by Protection -- were aye in decent nick,
When we rode up the 'Bidgee where the clearskins mustered thick.

They've built brush-yards on Wild Horse Creek, where in the morning's hush
We've sat silent in the saddle, and listened for the rush
Of the scrubbers -- when we heard 'em, 'twas wheel 'em if you can,
While gidgee, pine and mulga tried the nerve of horse and man.

The mickies that we've branded there! the colts we had to ride!
In Gonybibil's palmy days -- before the old boss died.
Could Yorkie Hawkins see his run, I guess his ghost would weep,
For Gonybibil's beggared since the country carried sheep.

From sunrise until sunset through the summer days we'd ride,
But stockyard rails were up and pegged, with cattle safe inside,
When 'twixt the gloamin' and the murk, we heard the well-known note --
The peal of boisterous laughter from the kookaburra's throat.

Camped out beneath the starlit skies, the tree-tops overhead,
A saddle for a pillow, and a blanket for a bed,
'Twas pleasant, mate, to listen to the soughing of the breeze,
And learn the lilting lullabies which stirred the mulga-trees.

Our sleep was sound in those times, for the mustering days were hard,
The morrows might be harder, with the branding in the yard.
But did you see the station now! the men -- and mokes -- they keep!
You'd own the place was beggared -- since the country carried sheep.

First published in The Bulletin, 4 March 1893, and again in the same magazine on 5 April, 1902;
and later in
Bushman and Buccaneer: Harry Morant : His 'Ventures and Verses edited by Frank Renar, 1902;
The Poetry of 'Breaker' Morant: from "The Bulletin" 1891-1903 with original illustrations by Breaker Morant, 1980;
This Australia Summer 1981;
A Collection of Australian Bush Verse, 1989;
Our Country: Classic Australian Poetry: From the Colonial Ballads to Paterson & Lawson edited by Michael Cook, 2004;
Two Centuries of Australian Poetry edited by Kathrine Bell, 2007; and
100 Australian Poems You Need to Know edited by Jamie Grant, 2008.

Author: Harry 'Breaker' Morant (1865?-1902) was born in the United Kingdom - in 1865 by his own account but in 1864 according to later research, possibly under the name Edwin Henry Murrant. He left England in April 1883 bound for Queensland where he married Daisy May O'Dwyer (later known more famously as Daisy Bates) - and quickly divorced - and took to droving and horse-breaking; hence the nickname. In the late 1890s he enlisted with the South Australian Mounted Rifles to fight in the Boer War in South Africa. Along with P.J. Handcock, Morant was court-martialled for executing several Boer prisoners and a German missionary. He was found guilty and executed by firing squad on February 27th 1902.

Author reference sites: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography

See also.