While The Billy BoilsSearchAustralia takes her pen in handTo write a line to you,To let you fellows understandHow proud we are of you.
From shearing shed and cattle run,From Broome to Hobson’s Bay,Each native-born Australian sonStands straighter up today.
The man who used to “hump his drum”,On far-out Queensland runsIs fighting side by side with someTasmanian farmer’s sons.
The fisher-boys dropped sail and oarTo grimly stand the test,Along that storm-swept Turkish shore,With miners from the west.
The old state jealousies of yoreAre dead as Pharaoh’s sow,We’re not State children any moreWe’re all Australians now!
Our six-starred flag that used to flyHalf-shyly to the breeze,Unknown where older nations plyTheir trade on foreign seas,
Flies out to meet the morning blueWith Vict’ry at the prow;For that’s the flag the Sydney flew,The wide seas know it now!
The mettle that a race can showIs proved with shot and steel,And now we know what nations knowAnd feel what nations feel.
The honoured graves beneath the crestOf Gaba Tepe hillMay hold our bravest and our best,But we have brave men still.
With all our petty quarrels done,Dissensions overthrown,We have, through what you boys have done,A history of our own.
Our old world diff’rences are dead,Like weeds beneath the plough,For English, Scotch, and Irish-bred,They’re all Australians now!
So now we’ll toast the Third BrigadeThat led Australia’s van,For never shall their glory fadeIn minds Australian.
Fight on, fight on, unflinchingly,Till right and justice reign.Fight on, fight on, till VictoryShall send you home again.
And with Australia’s flag shall flyA spray of wattle-boughTo symbolise our unity,We’re all Australians now.