The ibis are croaking in the morning air <br />In John Shaw Neilson's country 'The Country Out There' <br />An old brown Countryside that is as old as time <br />That once inspired a poet for to laud it in rhyme, <br />So little of this Land i can claim to know <br />The black tribes they hunted here centuries ago <br />On warm Summer evenings in the shade of the trees <br />They told their old stories and had their corroborees, <br />Out there far from the traffic and the noise of the street <br />Where the creek from the high ground the river does meet <br />The butchebird pipes on the black wattle tree <br />And none can mistake his bubbling melody <br />And the willy wagtail with the wagging tail <br />On the look out for flies is perched on the fence rail.<br /><br />Francis Duggan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/neilson-s-country-out-there/
