CHEERING BRADY OVER THE DROP
Shivers of chill, fear, gall this May morn Bush sounds start Bowled out Gammon the twelve, i would not Nor defend, seek respite My short reign, my wretched life, ends in Hobart Town – crown servant prisoned done Thirteen rum lags hoisted a whaler through Hell’s Gates to Derwent River Knapped swell swag from travellers, guns, grub from homesteaders Assignment chums bolted Brady’s vandies nail pannies, flashkens, barns Was sold like a bullock at Smithfield by that fence Thomas Kenton Turned the old lag up sweet He’d snitched ‘pon me to traps and swads Mynabs bashed and bound but scorched my bonds, absconded, shot him dead Twenty gallons o’ rum, my bounty Floggers lashed me six canaries Arthur combed the Western Tiers We ramped the raggorgies till Cowan turned nose near the South Esk Lame and legged,
i chose death Handsome morts napped the bib at my pain, a bold gill, civil to blowen i was boned by John Batman, a square cove But why hang me with Jeffries, gloak that choked kinchen? Time to croak B o d i n g s strange
January 713, 2004
Published on Jan 14, 2010
Was sold like a bullock at Smithfield by that fence Thomas Kenton Turned the old lag up sweet He’d snitched ‘pon me to traps and swads Mynab...