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Poem by Andrew Barton Paterson


A Nervous Governor-General


We read in the press that Lord Northcote is here 
To take up Lord Tennyson’s mission. 
’Tis pleasant to find they have sent us a Peer, 
And a man of exalted position. 
It’s his business to see that the Radical horde 
From loyalty’s path does not swerve us; 
But his tastes, and the task, don’t seem quite in accord 
For they say that His Lordship is nervous. 
Does he think that wild animals walk in the street, 
Where the wary marsupial is hopping? 
Does he think that the snake and the platypus meet 
And ”bail up” the folk who go shopping? 
And the boomerangs fly round the scared passer-by 
Who has come all this way to observe us. 
While the blackfellow launches a spear at his eye? 
-- No wonder His Lordship is nervous. 

Does he think that with callers he’ll be overtasked, 
From a baronet down to a barber? 
Does he dream of the number of times he’ll be asked 
”What he thinks of our Beautiful Harbour?” 
Does he sadly reflect on the sorrows that ding 
Round his task? (From such sorrows preserve us!) 
He must hear John See speak and O’Sullivan sing, 
-- It’s enough to make any man nervous. 

Does he think he’ll be waked in the dead of night 
From Melbourne to go willy-nilly, 
To live in the Federal Capital site 
At Tumut or Wagra-go-billy? 
Well, the Melbournites may let the Capital go 
(Here we wink with one eye, please observe us!) 
But not in a hurry! By no means! Oh, no! 
He has not the least need to be nervous!



Andrew Barton Paterson


Andrew Barton Paterson's other poems:
  1. A Grain of Desert Sand
  2. That Half-Crown Sweep
  3. With the Cattle
  4. Under the Shadow of Kiley’s Hill
  5. The Passing of Gundagai


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