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Sussex -Won't Be Druv W.Victor Cook

Some folks as comes to Susex,
They rackons as they knows
A darn sight better what to do
Than silly folks like me and you
Could possibly suppose.

But them as come to Sussex,
They musn't push and shove,
For Sussex will be Sussex,
And Sussex won't be druv.

Mus Wilfrid came to Selsey,
Us heaved a stone at he,
Because he rackoned he could teach
Our Sussex fishers how to reach
The fishes in the sea.

But when he dwelt among us
Us gave 'im land and love
For Sussex will be Sussex,
And Sussex won't be druv.

All folks as comes to Sussex,
Must follow Sussex ways,
And when they've larned to know us well
There's no place else they'd wish to dwell
In all their blessed days.

There ant no place like Sussex,
Until you goes Above,
But Sussex wil be Sussex,
And Sussex won't be druv.

JGee - just spotted this. Did you manage to find the poem?

Hello Evelyn .. could this be your poem...



Poetry - AB Paterson - The Old Bush Songs - poem, writing, and poetry - 04:1023 Jul 2007 ... see those clouds up yonder that have work to do they ll rain taters and rain us cabbage too poem · aboriginal poems ...
www.scribd.com/.../Poetry-AB-Paterson-The-Old-Bush-Songs - Cached - Similar -

Hello Evelyn, any luck with finding the poem?

I still cannot trace this poem

nudge

nudge

I still cannot find the words for the poem, can anyone help
Kind Regards and many thanks for your help so far
Evelyn

As I said, unfortunately, no reply was received from the school.

You could send a letter to the local newspaper? That could generate interest, hopefully.

A little OZ culture, learnt this song in school.

THE WILD COLONIAL BOY - Anonymous

'Tis of a wild Colonial Boy, Jack Doolan was his name,
Of poor but honest parents he was born in Castlemaine.
He was his father's only hope, his mother's pride and joy,
And dearly did his parents love the wild Colonial Boy.


Chorus
Come, all my hearties, we'll roam the mountains high,
Together we will plunder, together we will die.
We'll wander over valleys, and gallop over plains,
And we'll scorn to live in slavery, bound down with iron chains.


He was scarcely sixteen years of age when he left his father's home,
And through Australia's sunny clime a bushranger did roam.
He robbed those wealthy squatters, their stock he did destroy,
And a terror to Australia was the wild Colonial Boy.


In sixty-one this daring youth commenced his wild career,
With a heart that knew no danger, no foeman did he fear.
He stuck up the Beechworth mail-coach, and robbed Judge MacEvoy,
Who trembled, and gave up his gold to the wild Colonial Boy.


He bade the judge "Good morning", and told him to beware,
That he'd never rob a hearty chap that acted on the square,
And never to rob a mother of her son and only joy,
Or else you might turn outlaw, like the wild Colonial Boy.


One day as he was riding the mountain-side along,
A-listening to the little birds, their pleasant laughing song,
Three mounted troopers rode along - Kelly, Davis and FitzRoy -
They thought that they would capture him, the wild Colonial Boy.


"Surrender now, Jack Doolan, you see there's three to one.
Surrender now, Jack Doolan, you're a daring highwayman."
He drew a pistol from his belt, and shook the little toy,
"I'll fight, but not surrender," said the wild Colonial Boy.


He fired at Trooper Kelly and brought him to the ground,
And in return from Davis received a mortal wound.
All shattered through the jaws he lay still firing at FitzRoy,
And that's the way they captured him - the wild Colonial Boy.

N

snap stella.. been looking ages

Hello Evelyn .. could this be your poem...



Poetry - AB Paterson - The Old Bush Songs - poem, writing, and poetry - 04:1023 Jul 2007 ... see those clouds up yonder that have work to do they ll rain taters and rain us cabbage too poem · aboriginal poems ...
www.scribd.com/.../Poetry-AB-Paterson-The-Old-Bush-Songs - Cached - Similar -

Another lovely poem,what a lovely thing to do to recite it to O H on your wedding day, how romantic.
We are going on holiday today. where are you going, we are off to France this afternoon.
Evelyn

Evelyn, I have been looking, supposed to be finishing packing for our holiday, so short on time.

This poem is just so familiar and I think it may be Australian by A B Paterson or Banjo Paterson, may be worth a further google. Even if you do not find it his poetry is worth a read.

I just have a very strong feeling he may have written this.

This is one of my favourites.

As Long As Your Eyes Are Blue

Wilt thou love me, sweet, when my hair is grey
And my cheeks shall have lost their hue?
When the charms of youth shall have passed away,
Will your love as of old prove true?

For the looks may change, and the heart may range,
And the love be no longer fond;
Wilt thou love with truth in the years of youth
And away to the years beyond?

Oh, I love you, sweet, for your locks of brown
And the blush on your cheek that lies --
But I love you most for the kindly heart
That I see in your sweet blue eyes.

For the eyes are signs of the soul within,
Of the heart that is leal and true,
And mine own sweetheart, I shall love you still,
Just as long as your eyes are blue.

For the locks may bleach, and the cheeks of peach
May be reft of their golden hue;
But mine own sweetheart, I shall love you still,
Just as long as your eyes are blue.

'As Long As Your Eyes Are Blue' first published in The Bulletin, 1891.

This poem I recited to my OH at our wedding

I enjoyed that so much, thank you. Its nice to have a smile isnt it and anyone not smiling after reading that has a problem
Evelyn

Been looking for you and have not found. But do love this one.

The Walrus and The Carpenter
Lewis Carroll

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright--
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done--
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"

"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year.
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat--
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more--
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."

"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
"Do you admire the view?

"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf--
I've had to ask you twice!"

"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"

"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.



Back to look further.

Gail

Sadly I never did find the words to this poem, can anyone help please.
Evelyn

I am sorry to say that I have not received a reply from the school yet.

You could try writing to the local newspaper?