Monday, July 11, 2011

The Wild Colonial Boy (2)



Anonymous





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There was a wild Colonial Boy,
Jack Doolan was his name,
Of poor but honest parents,
He was born in Castlemaine.
He was his father's only hope
His mother's pride and joy,
And dearly did his parents love
The Wild Colonial Boy.

CHORUS:
So come along, my hearties
And we'll range the mountain side
Together we will plunder
And together we will ride
We scour all the valleys
And we'll gallop o'er the plains
And scorn to live in slavery bound down with iron chains.


At scarcely sixteen years of age
He left his native home,
And to Australia's sunny shores
A bushranger did roam.
They put him in the iron gang
In the government employ,
But never an iron on earth could hold
The Wild Colonial Boy


In sixty-one this daring youth
Commenced his wild career,
With a heart that knew no danger
And no foreman did he fear.
He stuck up the Beechworth mail coach
And robbed Judge MacEvoy
Who, trembling cold, gave up his gold
To the Wild Colonial Boy


He bade the Judge good morning
And he told him to beware,
That he'd never rob a needy man
Or one who acted square,
But a Judge who'd robed a mother
Of her one and only joy
Sure, he must be a worse outlaw than
The Wild Colonial Boy


One day as Jack was riding
The mountainside along,
A- listening to the little birds
Their happy laughing song.
Three mounted troopers came along,
Kelly, Davis and Fitzroy
With a warrant for the capture of
The Wild Colonial Boy.


'Surrender now! Jack Doolan,
For you see it's three to one;
Surrender in the Queen's own name,
You are a highwayman.'
Jack drew his pistol from his belt
And waved it like a toy,
'I'll fight, but not surrender,' cried
The Wild Colonial Boy.


He fired at trooper Kelly
And brought him to the ground,
And in return from Davis,
Received a mortal wound,
All shattered through the jaws he lay
Still firing at Fitzroy,
And that's the way they captured him,
The Wild Colonial Boy.



A variation closer to the version I learnt at school, to a much more common tune than that posted a couple of days ago.

The illustration is a picture from the State Library of Tasmania collection: Convicts Plundering a Homestead.

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