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C J Dennis - The Push
Work rating: Low

Becos a crook done in a prince, an` narked an Emperor,
   An` struck a light that set the world aflame;
Becos the bugles East an` West sooled on the dawgs o` war,
   A bloke called Ginger Mick `as found `is game -
Found `is game an` found `is brothers, `oo wus strangers in `is sight,
Till they shed their silly clobber an` put on the duds fer fight.

Yes, they`ve shed their silly clobber an` the other stuff they wore
   Fer to `ide the man beneath it in the past;
An` each man is the clean, straight man `is Maker meant `im for,
  An` each man knows `is brother man at last.
Shy strangers, till a bugle blast preached `oly brother`ood;
But mateship they `ave found at last; an` they `ave found it good.

So the lumper, an` the lawyer, an` the chap `oo shifted sand,
   They are cobbers wiv the cove `oo drove a quill;
They knut `oo swung a cane upon the Block, `e takes the `and
   Uv the coot `oo swung a pick on Broken `Ill;
An` Privit Clord Augustus drills wiv Privit Snarky Jim -
They are both Australian soljers, w`ich is good enough fer `im.

It`s good enough fer orl uv `em, as orl uv `em `ave seen
   Since they got the same glad clobber next their skins;
An` the bloke `oo `olds the boodle an` the coot wivout a bean,
   Why, they knock around like little Kharki twins.
An` they got a common lingo, w`ich is growin` mighty thick
Wiv ixpressive contributions frum the stock uv Ginger Mick.

`E `as struck it fer a moral.  Ginger`s found `is game at last,
   An` `e`s took to it like ducklin`s take to drink;
An` `is slouchin` an` `is grouchin` an` `is loafin` uv the past -
   `E`s done wiv `em, an` dumped `em down the sink.
`E`s a bright an` shinin` sample uv a the`ry that I `old:
That ev`ry `eart that ever pumped is good fer chunks o` gold.

Ev`ry feller is a gold mine if yeh take an` work `im right:
   It is shinin` on the surface now an` then;
An` there`s some is easy sinkin`, but there`s some wants dynermite,
   Fer they looks a `opeless prospect - yet they`re men.
An` Ginger - `ard-shell Ginger`s showin` signs that `e will pay;
But it took a flamin` world-war fer to blarst `is crust away.

But they took `im an` they drilled `im an` they shipped `im overseas
   Wiv a crowd uv blokes `e never met before.
`E rowed wiv `em, an` scrapped wiv `em, an` done some tall C.B.`s,
   An` `e lobbed wiv `em on Egyp`s sandy shore.
Then Pride o` Race lay `olt on `im, an` Mick shoves out `is chest
To find `imself Australian an` blood brothers wiv the rest.

So I gits some reel good readin` in the letter wot `e sent-
   Tho` the spellin`s pretty rotten now an` then.
`I `ad the joes at first," `e sez; "but now I`m glad I went,
   Fer it`s fine to be among reel, livin` men.
An` it`s grand to be Australian, an` to say it good an` loud
When yeh bump a forrin country wiv sich fellers as our crowd.

"`Struth!  I`ve `ung around me native land fer close on thirty year,
   An` I never knoo wot men me cobbers were:
Never knoo that toffs wus white men till I met `em over `ere -
   Blokes an` coves I sort o` snouted over there.
Yes, I loafed aroun` me country; an` I never knoo `er then;
But the reel, ribuck Australia`s `ere, among the fightin` men.

"We`ve slung the swank fer good an` all; it don`t fit in our plan;
   To skite uv birth an` boodle is a crime.
A man wiv us, why, `e`s a man becos `e is a man,
   An` a reel red-`ot Australian ev`ry time.
Fer dawg an` side an` snobbery is down an` out fer keeps.
It`s grit an` reel good fellership that gits yeh friends in `caps.

"There`s a bloke `oo shipped when I did; `e wus lately frum `is ma.
   `Oo `ad filled `im full uv notions uv `is birth;
An` `e overworked `is aitches till `e got the loud `Ha-ha`
   Frum the fellers, but `e wouldn`t come to earth.
I bumped `is lordship, name o` Keith, an` `ad a little row,
An` `e lost some chunks uv beauty; but `e`s good Australian now.

"There is Privit Snifty Thompson, `oo wus once a Sydney rat,
   An` `e `ung around the Rocks when `e wus young.
There`s little Smith uv Collin`wood, wiv fags stuck in `is `at,
   An` a string uv dirty insults on `is tongue.
A corperil took them in `and - a lad frum Lameroo.
Now both is nearly gentlemen, an` good Australians too.

"There`s one, `e doesn`t tork a lot, `e sez `is name is Trent,
   Jist a privit, but `e knows `is drill a treat;
A stand-orf bloke, but reel good pals wiv fellers in `is tent,
   But `is `ome an` `istoree `as got `em beat.
They reckon when `e starts to bleed `e`ll stain `is Kharki blue;
An` `is lingo smells uv Oxford - but `e`s good Australian too.

"Then there`s Lofty Craig uv Queensland, `oo`s a special pal uv mine;
   Slow an` shy, an` kind o` nervous uv `is height;
An` Jupp, `oo owns a copper show, an` arsts us out to dine
   When we`re doo fer leave in Cairo uv a night.
An` there`s Bills an` Jims an` Bennos, an` there`s Roys an` `Arolds too,
An` they`re cobbers, an` they`re brothers, an` Australians thro` an` thro`.

"There is farmers frum the Mallec, there is bushmen down frum Bourke,
   There`s college men wiv letters to their name;
There is grafters, an` there`s blokes `oo never done a `ard day`s work
   Till they tumbled, wiv the rest, into the game -
An` they`re drillin` `ere together, men uv ev`ry creed an` kind
It`s Australia!  Solid!  Dinkum! that `as left the land be`ind.

"An` if yeh want a slushy, or a station overseer,
   Or a tinker, or a tailor, or a snob,
Or a `andy bloke wiv `orses, or a minin` ingineer,
   Why, we`ve got the very man to do yer job.
Butcher, baker, undertaker, or a Caf` de Pary chef,
`E is waitin`, keen an` ready, in the little A.I.F.

"An` they`ve drilled us.  Strike me lucky! but they`ve drilled us fer a cert!
   We `ave trod around ole Egyp`s burnin` sand
Till I tells meself at evenin`, when I`m wringin` out me shirt,
   That we`re built uv wire an` green-`ide in our land.
Strike! I thort I knoo `ard yakker, w`ish I`ve tackled many ways,
But uv late I`ve took a tumble I bin dozin` orl me days.

"It`s a game, lad," writes ole Ginger, "it`s a game I`m likin` grand,
   An` I`m tryin` fer a stripe to fill in time;
I `ave took a pull on shicker fer the honour uv me land,
   An` I`m umpty round the chest an` feelin` prime.
Yeh kin tell Rose, if yeh see `er, I serloots `er o`er the foam,
An` we`ll `ave a cray fer supper when I comes a`marchin` `ome."

So ole Ginger sends a letter, an` `is letter`s good to read,
   Fer the things `e sez, an` some things `e leaves out;
An` when a bloke like `im wakes up an` starts to take a `eed,
   Well, it`s sort o` worth the writin` `ome about.
`E`s one uv many little things Australia chanced to find
She never knoo she `ad around till bugles cleared `er mind.

Becos ole Europe lost `er block an` started `eavin` bricks,
   Becos the bugles wailed a song uv war,
We found reel gold down in the `earts uv orl our Ginger Micks
   We never thort worth minin` fer before.
An` so, I`m tippin` we will pray, before our win is scored:
"Thank God for Mick, an` Bill an` Jim, an` little brother Clord."
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