Freedom on the Wallaby

The Google logo tells me it's Henry Lawson's birthday today, so we need a poem.

Freedom on the Wallabay, originally published in The Worker as a response to the use of police & soliders during the Shearer's Strike of 1891.

FREEDOM ON THE WALLABY.
(WRITTEN FOR THE "WORKER.")

Australia's a big country
Freedom's humping bluey
Freedom's on the wallaby
Oh don't you hear 'er cooey.
She's just begun to boomerang
She'll knock the tyrants silly
She's goin' to light another fire
And boil another billy.

Our fathers toiled for bitter bread
While loafers thrived beside 'em
But food to eat and clothes to wear
Their native land denied 'em.
So they left that native land
In spite of their devotion
An' so they come, or if they stole
Were sent across the ocean.

Then freedom couldn't stand the glare
Of Royalty's regalia
She left the loafers where they were
An' come out to Australia.
But now across the mighty main
The chains have come ter bind her
She little thought to see again
The wrongs she left behind her.

Our parent's toiled to make a home
Hard grubbin' 'twas an' clearin'
They wasn't crowded much with lords
When they was pioneerin'
But now that we have made the land
A garden full of promise
Old Greed must crook 'is dirty hand
An come ter take it from us.

So we must fly a rebel flag
As others did before us
And we must sing a rebel song
And join in rebel chorus.
We'll make the tyrants feel the sting
O' those that they would throttle ;
They needn't say the fault is ours
If blood should stain the wattle.

HENRY LAWSON.
Brisbane, May, 1891