The track that led to Carmody’s is choked and overgrown,
The suckers of the stringybark have made the place their own;
The mountain rains have cut the track that once we used to know
When first we rode to Carmody’s, a score of years ago.
The shearing shed at Carmody’s was slab and stringybark,
The press was just a lever beam, invented in the Ark;
But Mrs Carmody was cook — and shearers’ hearts would glow
With praise of grub at Carmody’s, a score of years ago.
At shearing time no penners-up would curse their fate and weep,
For Fragrant Fred — the billy-goat — was trained to lead the sheep;
And racing down the rattling chutes the bleating mob would go
Behind their horned man from Cook’s, a score of years ago.
An owner of the olden time, his patriarchal shed
Was innocent of all machines or gadgets overhead:
And pieces, locks and super-fleece together used to go
To fill the bales at Carmody’s, a score of years ago.
A ringer from the western sheds, whose fame was wide and deep,
Was asked to take a vacant pen and shear a thousand sheep.
“Of course, we’ve only got the blades!” “Well, what I want to know:
Why don’t you get a bloke to take it off ’em with a hoe?”
(Andrew Barton Paterson)
More Poetry from Andrew Barton Paterson:
Andrew Barton Paterson Poems based on Topics: Place, Time, Fame- A Job for McGuinness (Andrew Barton Paterson Poems)
- Tom Collins (Andrew Barton Paterson Poems)
- Rio Grande's Last Race (Andrew Barton Paterson Poems)
- By the Grey Gulf-water (Andrew Barton Paterson Poems)
- The Reveille (Andrew Barton Paterson Poems)
- The Rhyme of the O'Sullivan (Andrew Barton Paterson Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Time Poems, Place Poems, Fame PoemsBased on Keywords: trained, horned, machines, shearers, slab, overgrown, hoe, bleating, bloke, grub, fred