WE WANT the man who will lead the van, <br />The man who will pioneer. <br />We have no use for the gentleman, <br />Or the cheating Cheap-Jack here; <br />We have no room for the men who shirk <br />The sweat of the brow. Condemn <br />The men who are frightened to look for work <br />And funk when it looks for them. <br /> <br />We’ll honour the man who can’t afford <br />To wait for a job that suits, <br />But sticks a swag on his shoulders broad <br />And his feet in blucher boots, <br />And tramps away o’er the ridges far <br />And over the burning sand <br />To look for work where the stations are <br />In the lonely Western land. <br /> <br />He’ll brave the drouth and he’ll brave the rain, <br />And fight his sorrows down, <br />And help to garden the inland plain <br />And build the inland town; <br />And he’ll be found in the coming years <br />With a heart as firm and stout, <br />An honoured man with the pioneers <br />Who lead the people out.<br /><br />Henry Lawson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-australian-advertisement/
