About Australia (Culture)

Waltzing Matilda was the second most popular choice for an Australian National anthem, according to a poll held in 1977.

FUN FACT : A swagman was really a hobo who carried his belongings in a swag (or wrapped in a blanket). The swagman in the song calls his swag "Matilda" and he waltzes her through the country side. For other words in the poem (song), please see our Downunder Dictionary.

Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong 
Under the shade of a coolabah tree 
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled 
Who'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me 
Waltzing matilda, waltzing matilda 
Who'll come a waltzing matilda with me 
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled 
Who'll come a waltzing matilda with me 

Down came a jumbuck to drink at the billabong 
Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him with glee 
And he sang as he stuffed that jumbuck in his  tucker bag 
You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me 
Waltzing matilda, waltzing matilda 
You'll come a waltzing matilda with me 
& he sang as he stuffed that jumbuck in his tucker bag 
You'll come a waltzing matilda with me 

Down came the Squatter mounted on his thoroughbred 
Down came the troopers one, two, three 
Where's that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tuckerbag 
You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me 
Waltzing matilda, waltzing matilda 
You'll come a waltzing matilda with me 
Where's that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tuckerbag 
You'll come a waltzing matilda with me 

Up jumped the swagman and sprang into the billabong 
You'll never take me alive said he 
And his ghost may be heard as you pass by the billabong 
"Who'll come a waltzing Matilda with me" 
Waltzing matilda, waltzing matilda 
Who'll come a waltzing matilda with me 
& his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong 
Who'll come a waltzing matilda with me.

"BANJO" PATTERSON
He was a true folk poet, a recorder & publisher of Australian bush songs. He was able to capture the magic of the outback and the essences of the bushmen and women who pioneered it.

In 1980's Australia "Banjo" Patterson brought the vast distances, the droughts, the heat plus the harsh and beautiful places of outback Australia to the city people.

THE MELBOURNE CUP
This is the most famous horse race in Australia - Aussies believe the world's most famous! Always run on the first Tuesday in November, it is a State holiday in Victoria and may as well be a holiday everywhere else.

DOWNUNDER'S MOST FAMOUS RACE HORSE ..."PHARLAP": 
In his brief life he repeatedly overcame apparently insurmountable odds to win 37 of his 51 races. His remains are divided between the National Museum of Australia, which has his heart, the Museum of Victoria, which has his stuffed skin, and New Zealand's National Museum in Wellington which has his skeleton. There is a very interesting movie/video of the same name, Pharlap.      

DID YOU KNOW? 
The legendary American fighter Jack Johnson, the first black to become world heavyweight champion, won the title in Sydney in 1908. He defeated the title-holder, a Canadian named Tommy Burns, when police stopped the fight in the 14'th round. The venue for the fight, the old Sydney Stadium, near Kings Cross was demolished in 1973. 

THE MAN FROM SNOWY RIVER  (from a ballad by "Banjo" Patterson )

There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around 
That the colt from old Regret had got away 
And had joined the wild bush horses - he was worth a thousand pound, 
So all the cracks had gathered to the fray. 
All the tried and noted riders from the stations near and far 
Had mustered at the homestead overnight, 
For the bushmen love hard riding where the wild bush horses are, 
And the stock-horse snuffs the battle with delight. 

There was Harrison, who made his pile when Pardon won the cup, 
The old man with his hair as white as snow; 
But few could ride beside him when his blood was fairly up 
He would go wherever horse and man could go. 
And Clancy of the Overflow came down to lend a hand, 
No better horseman ever held the reins; 
For never horse could throw him while the saddle-girths  would stand - 
He learnt to ride while droving on the plains. 

And one was there, a stripling on a small and weedy beast; 
He was something like a racehorse undersized, 
With a touch of Timor pony - three parts thorough bred at least 
And such as are by mountain horsemen prized. 
He was hard and tough and wiry - just the sort that won't say die 
There was courage in his quick Impatient tread; 
And he bore the badge of gameness in his bright and fiery eye, 
And the proud and lofty carriage of his head. 

But still so slight and weedy, one would doubt his power to stay. 
And the old man said. "That horse will never do 
For a long and tiring gallop - lad, you'd better stop away, 
Those hills are far too rough for such as you." 
So he waited sad and wistful - only Clancy stood his friend - 
"I think we ought to let him come", he said; 
"I warrant he'll be with us when he's wanted at the end, 
For both his horse and he are mountain bred." 

"He hails from Snowy River, up by Kosciusko's side, 
Where the hills are twice as steep and twice as rough; 
Where a horse's hoofs strike firelight from the flint stones  every stride. 
The man that holds his own is good enough. 
And the Snowy River riders on the mountains make their home, 
Where the river runs those giant hills between; 
I have seen full many horsemen since I first commenced to roam, 
But nowhere yet such horsemen have I seen." 

So he went; they found the horses by the big mimosa clump, 
They raced away towards the mountain's brow, 
And the old man gave his orders, "Boys, go at them from  the jump, 
No use to try for fancy riding now. 
And, Clancy, you must wheel them, try and wheel them  to the right, 
Ride boldly, lad, and never fear the spills, 
For never yet was rider that could keep the mob in sight, 
If once they gain the shelter of those hills."  

So Clancy rode to wheel them - he was racing on the wing 
Where the best and boldest riders take their place, 
And he raced his stock-horse past them, and he made the  ranges ring 
With the stockwhip, as he met them face to face. 

Then they halted for a moment, while he swung the dreaded lash, 
But they saw their well-loved mountain full in view, 
And they charged beneath the stockwhip with a sharp and  sudden dash, 
And off into the mountain scrub they flew. 

Then fast the horsemen followed, where the gorges deep and black 
Resounded to the thunder of their tread, 
And the stockwhips woke the echoes, and they fiercely  answered back 
From cliffs and crags that beetled overhead. 
And upward, ever upward, the wilted horses held their way, 
Where mountain ash and kurrajong grew wide; 
And the old man muttered fiercely, "We may bid the mob good day, 
No man can hold them down the other side." 

When they reached the mountain's summit, even Clancy took a pull 
It well might make the boldest hold their breath; 
The wild hop scrub grew thickly, and the hidden ground was full 
Of wombat holes, and any slip was death. 
But the man from Snowy River let the pony have his head, 
And he swung his stockwhip round and gave a cheer, 
And he raced him down the mountain like a torrent down Its bed, 
While the others stood and watched in very fear. 

He sent the flint-stones flying, but the pony kept his feet, 
he cleared the fallen timber in his stride, 
And the man from Snowy River never shifted in his seat 
It was grand to see that mountain horseman ride. 
Through the stringy barks and saplings, on the rough and  broken ground 
Down the hillside at the racing pace he went; 
And he never drew the bridle till he landed safe and sound 
At the bottom of that terrible descent. 

He was right among the horses as they climbed the farther hill, 
And the watchers on the mountain, standing mute, 
Saw him ply the stockwhip fiercely; he was right among them still, 
As he raced across the clearing in pursuit. 
Then they lost him for a moment, where two mountain gullies met 
In the ranges - but a final glimpse reveals 
On a dim and distant hillside the wild horses racing yet, 
With the man from Snowy River at their heels. 

And he ran them single-handed till their sides were white  with foam; 
He followed like a bloodbound on their track, 
Till they halted, cowed and beaten; then he turned their heads for home, 
And alone and unassisted brought them back. 
But his hardy mountain pony he could scarcely raise a trot, 
He was blood from hip to shoulder from the spur' 
But his pluck was still undaunted, and his courage fiery hot, 
For never yet was mountain horse a cur. 

And down by Kosclusko, where the pine-clad ridges raise 
Their torn and rugged battlements on high, 
Where the air is clear as crystal, and the white stars fairly blaze 
At midnight in the cold and frosty sky 
And where around the Overflow the reed-beds sweep and say 
To the breezes, and the rolling plains are wide, 
The Man from Snowy River is a household word to-day, 
And the stockmen tell the story of his ride. 

"My Country" is Australia's best known poem and is still recited in many school classrooms around the country. Verse two is the most popular. Most Australians know the second verse, but few know how the poem begins. "My Country" was first published in 1908 in the Spectator, a London UK magazine. 

Dorothea Mackellar wrote the poem during a stay on a family farm near Maitland in the state of New South Wales, after witnessing the breaking of a drought.

FUN FACT
The Platypus is odd for a few reasons: It's a mammal, it lays eggs and it's amphibious! They were not seen or observed by scientists until 1797.

MY COUNTRY  (A poem by Dorothea Mackellar)

The love of field and coppice, 
Of green and shaded lanes, 
Of ordered woods and gardens 
Is running in your veins, 
Strong love of grey-blue distance, 
Brown streams and soft dim skies, 
I know but cannot share it, 
My love is otherwise. 

I love a sunburnt country, 
A land of sweeping plains, 
Of ragged mountain ranges, 
Of droughts and flooding rains; 
I love her far horizons, 
I love her jewel-sea, 
Her beauty and her terror- 
The wide brown land for me! 

The tragic ringbarked forests, 
Stark white beneath the moon, 
The sapphire misted mountains, 
The hot gold hush of noon, 
Green tangle of the brushes, 
Where lithe lianas coil, 
And orchids deck the tree tops 
And ferns the crimson soil. 

Core of my heart, my country! 
Her pitiless blue sky, 
When sick at heart around us 
We see the cattle die- 
But then the grey clouds gather 
And we can bless again 
The drumming of an army, 
The steady soaking rain. 

Core of my heart my country! 
Land of the Rainbow Gold, 
For flood and fire and famine 
She pays us back threefold, 
Over the thirsty paddocks, 
Watch after many days, 
The filmy veil of greenness 
That thickens as we gaze. 

An opal-hearted country, 
A wilful lavish land- 
All you who have not loved her, 
You will not understand- 
Though earth holds many splendours 
Wherever I may die, 
I know to what brown country, 
My homing thoughts will fly. 

FACT 
Advance Australia Fair was proclaimed Australia's national anthem on April 19th, 1984, and is played, but not sung, on all official and ceremonial occasions. If a member of the Royal Family is present at an engagement then God Save the Queen must be played at the beginning and Advance Australia Fair at the end. 

AUSTRALIA DAY 
Australian's celebrate their national day, Australia Day, on 26 January. It marks the date in 1788 when Captain Arthur Phillip, commanding a fleet of 11 ships of the British Royal Navy, sailed into Port Jackson (Sydney Cove) and founded the settlement which was to become Sydney, first in the then colony of New South Wales.

ADVANCE AUSTRALIA FAIR
Australians all let us rejoice, 
For we are young and free, 
We've golden soil and wealth for toil; 
Our home is girt by sea; 
Our land abounds in nature's gifts 
Of beauty rich and rare, 
In history's page, let every stage 
Advance Australia Fair. 
In joyful strains then let us sing, 
Advance Australia Fair. 

Beneath our radiant Southern Cross 
We'll toil with hearts and hands; 
To make this Commonwealth of ours 
Renowned of all the lands; 
For those who've come across the seas 
We've boundless plains to share; 
With courage let us all combine 
To Advance Australia Fair. 
In joyful strains then let us sing, 
Advance Australia Fair.