Pride, selfishness in every line,And on its face a frown,It stands, a sceptre in its hand,And points forever down.And who will kneel? The unemployed!Small homage pay, I ween,The only men who gather 'neathThe Statue of our Queen.
I'd scarcely wonder if the sun,That rises with good grace,Should sink and leave the day undoneAt sight of such a face.But no! The day will still have birthIn all its golden sheen,When antiquarians unearthThe Statue of our Queen.
Then if you'd have us loyal bideAs we have loyal been,Great Parkes! for love of England, hideThe Statue of our Queen.
Sources, publication & text notesReference details
Canonical recordPOEM-000679
Copy-textProject Gutenberg Australia, Collected Poems of Henry Lawson (2022), anchor p284; selected digital copy-text retained exactly; wording and layout confirmed against Ironbark Resources under D-180
While The Billy BoilsSearch