Poem by Andrew Barton Paterson

The Dauntless Three

Chris Watson, of the Parliament, 
By his Caucus Gods he swore 
That the great Labor Party 
Should suffer wrong no more. 
By his Caucus Gods he swore it, 
And named a trysting day, 
And bade his Socialists ride forth, 
East and west and south and north, 
To summon his array. 
East and west and south and north 
The Socialists ride fast, 
And every town in New South Wales 
Has heard their trumpet’s blast. 
Shame to the false elector 
Who lingers in his hole, 
While Watson and his myrmidons 
Are riding to the poll. 

Then up spake brave Horatius Gould, 
And a Liberal proud was he, 
”Now, who will stand on either hand 
And face the foe with me?” 
Then out spake bold Herminius Millen, 
And Walker out spake he, 
”We will abide on either side 
And win a seat with thee.” 

”’Tis well”, quoth brave Horatuis, 
”As thou sayest, so let it be.” 
And straight against the proletaire 
Forth went the dauntless three.

1. The Wargeilah Handicap
2. The Pannikin Poet
3. There’s Another Blessed Horse Fell Down
4. The Maori’s Wool
5. “Shouting” for a Camel

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