I first came across this one verse poem by Henry Lawson while up at Andrew and Heather Pattison’s wonderful winery in Victoria, Australia. I was completely captivated by the poem and a tune popped out. I did become somewhat frustrated by just the one verse and on another time up at Ian and Jenny MacDougall’s inspiring property at Gulargambone, on the edge of the Western plains, I wrote the second, third and fourth verses. I would also like to thank our good friend Professor Bill Gammage for suggesting the word “THE” in the fourth verse. Martyn
POSSUMLAND. First verse Henry Lawson, Second, Third and Fourth verses M.Wyndham-Read. First verse repeated. Melody M.Wyndham-Read.
In Possumland the nights are fair the streams are fresh and clear
No dust is in the moonlit air no traffic jars the ear
With possums gambolling over head ‘neath Western stars so grand
Ah would that we could make our bed tonight in Possumland.
The western plains are green again the pastures looking fine
And with the wattle in full bloom it’s close to shearing time
So hump your swags and take the track and push for further out
And leave behind all memories of blazing days and drought.
The sky is blue no fleecy cloud no sign of summer rain
And now the sheds are all cut out we’ll take the track again
And camp that night by Rocky Creek ‘neath Western stars so grand
And then again we’ll make our bed that night in Possumland.
The trees and breezes blowing free the scent of wattle clear
The Bush lies sleeping in the dawn with daylight drawing near
The stars have filled the sky with light the Cross is going down
The dawn will bring the sun again to wear the golden crown.
In Possumland the nights are fair the streams are fresh and clear
No dust is in the moonlit air no traffic jars the ear
With possums gambolling overhead ‘neath Western stars so grand
Ah would that we could make our bed tonight in Possumland.