POETRY SPOT

 

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My poetic contribution:

Patterson’s poems are the go,

And though I like them, even so,

The poetry of Lawson

Is truly quite awesome

And more gritty than that of Banjo.

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An explanation:

Nevertire is a rural village in New South Wales located about 500 kilometres northwest of Sydney, 78 km north-west of Narromine and about 107 km from Dubbo. At the 2011 census, Nevertire had a population of 225 people.

Nevertire today

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Henry Lawson (1867 – 1922) was an Australian writer and bush poet. Along with his contemporary Banjo Paterson, Lawson is among the best-known Australian poets and fiction writers of the colonial period.

He wrote prolifically into the 1890s, after which his output declined, in part due to struggles with alcoholism and mental illness. At times destitute, he spent periods in Darlinghurst Gaol and psychiatric institutions. After he died in 1922 following a cerebral haemorrhage, Lawson became the first Australian writer to be granted a state funeral.

Henry Lawson, 1915

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Jack Dunn of Nevertire

      - Henry Lawson

It chanced upon the very day we’d got the shearing done,

A buggy brought a stranger to the West-o’-Sunday Run;

He had a round and jolly face, and he was sleek and stout,

He drove right up between the huts and called the super out.

We chaps were smoking after tea, and heard the swell enquire

For one as travelled by the name of `Dunn of Nevertire’.

Jack Dunn of Nevertire,

Poor Dunn of Nevertire;

There wasn’t one of us but knew Jack Dunn of Nevertire.

`Jack Dunn of Nevertire,’ he said; `I was a mate of his;

And now it’s twenty years since I set eyes upon his phiz.

There is no whiter man than Jack no straighter south the line,

There is no hand in all the land I’d sooner grip in mine;

To help a mate in trouble Jack would go through flood and fire.

Great Scott and don’t you know the name of Dunn of Nevertire?

Big Dunn of Nevertire,

Long Jack from Nevertire;

He stuck to me through thick and thin, Jack Dunn of Nevertire.

I did a wild and foolish thing while Jack and I were mates,

And I disgraced my guv’nor’s name, an’ wished to try the States.

My lamps were turned to Yankee Land, for I’d some people there,

And I was right when someone sent the money for my fare;

I thought ’twas Dad until I took the trouble to enquire,

And found that he who sent the stuff was Dunn of Nevertire,

Jack Dunn of Nevertire,

Soft Dunn of Nevertire;

He’d won some money on a race Jack Dunn of Nevertire.

`Now I’ve returned, by Liverpool, a swell of Yankee brand,

To reckon, guess, and kalkilate, ‘n’ wake my native land;

There is no better land, I swear, in all the wide world round —

I smelt the bush a month before we touched King George’s Sound!

And now I’ve come to settle down, the top of my desire

Is just to meet a mate o’ mine called `Dunn of Nevertire’.

Was raised at Nevertire,

The town of Nevertire;

He humped his bluey by the name of `Dunn of Nevertire’.

`I’ve heard he’s poor, and if he is, a proud old fool is he;

But, spite of that, I’ll find a way to fix the old gum-tree.

I’ve bought a station in the North, the best that could be had;

I want a man to pick the stock, I want a super bad;

I want no bully-brute to boss, no crawling, sneaking liar

My station super’s name shall be `Jack Dunn of Nevertire’!

Straight Dunn of Nevertire,

Old Dunn of Nevertire;

I guess he’s known up Queensland way Jack Dunn of Nevertire.’

The super said, while to his face a strange expression came:

`I think I’ve seen the man you want, I think I know the name;

Had he a jolly kind of face, a free and careless way,

Gray eyes that always seem’d to smile, and hair just turning gray

Clean-shaved, except a light moustache, long-limbed, an’ tough as wire?’

`That’s him! That’s Dunn!’ the stranger roared, `Jack Dunn of Nevertire!

John Dunn of Nevertire,

Jack D. from Nevertire,

They said I’d find him here, the cuss! Jack Dunn of Nevertire.

`I’d know his walk,’ the stranger cried, `though sobered, I’ll allow.’

`I doubt it much,’ the boss replied, `he don’t walk that way now.’

`Perhaps he don’t!’ the stranger said, `for years were hard on Jack

But, if he were a mile away, I swear I’d know his back.’

`I doubt it much,’ the super said, and sadly puffed his briar,

`I guess he wears a pair of wings — Jack Dunn of Nevertire;

Jack Dunn of Nevertire,

Brave Dunn of Nevertire,

He caught a fever nursing me, Jack Dunn of Nevertire.’

We took the stranger round to where a gum-tree stood alone,

And in the grass beside the trunk he saw a granite stone;

The names of Dunn and Nevertire were plainly written there

`I’m all broke up,’ the stranger said, in sorrow and despair,

`I guess he has a wider run, the man that I require;

He’s got a river-frontage now, Jack Dunn of Nevertire;

Straight Dunn of Nevertire,

White Jack from Nevertire,

I guess Saint Peter knew the name of `Dunn of Nevertire’.’