# The Roaring Days

The night too quickly passes  And we are growing old, So let us fill our glasses  And toast the Days of Gold; When finds of wondrous treasure  Set all the South ablaze, And you and I were faithful mates  All through the roaring days!
Then stately ships came sailing  From every harbour's mouth, And sought the land of promise  That beaconed in the South; Then southward streamed their streamers  And swelled their canvas full To speed the wildest dreamers  E'er borne in vessel's hull.
Their shining Eldorado,  Beneath the southern skies, Was day and night for ever  Before their eager eyes. The brooding bush, awakened,  Was stirred in wild unrest, And all the year a human stream  Went pouring to the West.
The rough bush roads re-echoed  The bar-room's noisy din, When troops of stalwart horsemen  Dismounted at the inn. And oft the hearty greetings  And hearty clasp of hands Would tell of sudden meetings  Of friends from other lands; When, puzzled long, the new-chum  Would recognise at last, Behind a bronzed and bearded skin,  A comrade of the past.
And when the cheery camp-fire  Explored the bush with gleams, The camping-grounds were crowded  With caravans of teams; Then home the jests were driven,  And good old songs were sung, And choruses were given  The strength of heart and lung. Oh, they were lion-hearted  Who gave our country birth! Oh, they were of the stoutest sons  From all the lands on earth!
Oft when the camps were dreaming,  And fires began to pale, Through rugged ranges gleaming  Would come the Royal Mail. Behind six foaming horses,  And lit by flashing lamps, Old "Cobb and Co.'s", in royal state,  Went dashing past the camps.
Oh, who would paint a goldfield,  And limn the picture right, As we have often seen it  In early morning's light; The yellow mounds of mullock  With spots of red and white, The scattered quartz that glistened  Like diamonds in light; The azure line of ridges,  The bush of darkest green, The little homes of calico  That dotted all the scene.
I hear the fall of timber  From distant flats and fells, The pealing of the anvils  As clear as little bells, The rattle of the cradle,  The clack of windlass-boles, The flutter of the crimson flags  Above the golden holes.
Ah, then our hearts were bolder,  And if Dame Fortune frowned Our swags we'd lightly shoulder  And tramp to other ground. But golden days are vanished,  And altered is the scene; The diggings are deserted,  The camping-grounds are green; The flaunting flag of progress  Is in the West unfurled, The mighty bush with iron rails  Is tethered to the world.
This work is in the public domain in Australia because it was created in Australia and the term of copyright has expired. According to Australian Copyright Council - Duration of Copyright, the following works are public domain:
* published non-government works whose author died before January 1, 1955,
* anonymous or pseudonymous works and photographs published before January 1, 1955, and
* government works published more than 50 years ago (before January 1, 1974).
This work is also in the public domain in the United States because it was first published outside the United States (and not published in the U.S. within 30 days), and it was first published before 1989 without complying with U.S. copyright formalities (renewal and/or copyright notice) and it was in the public domain in Australia on the URAA date (January 1, 1996). This is the combined effect of Australia having joined the Berne Convention in 1928, and of 17 USC 104A with its critical date of January 1, 1996.
Because the Australian copyright term in 1996 was 50 years, the critical date for copyright in the United States under the URAA is January 1, 1946.
This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse