The Bushrangers: A play in five acts

And other poems

The Tree of Liberty

Charles Harpur


WE’LL PLANT a Tree of Liberty
        In the centre of the land,
And round it ranged as guardians be,
        A vowed and trusty band;
And sages bold and mighty soul’d
        Shall dress it day by day:
But woe unto the traitor who
        Would break one branch away.

Then sing the Tree of Liberty
        For the vow that we have made;
May it so flourish that when we
        Are buried in its shade,
Fair Womanhood and Love and Good,
        All pilgrims pure shall go
Its growth to bless for happiness—
        O may it flourish so!

Till felled by gold as bards have told,
        In the Old World once it grew,
But there its fruits were ever sold
        And only to the Few:
But here at last, uncurs’d by caste,
        Each man at Nature’s call
Shall pluck as well what none may sell,
        The fruit that blooms for All.

By gold ’twas felled as bards have held
        In the Old World where it grew,
But here the power that there dispelled
        Its life shall be its dew:
The evil bout of Time is out,
        And gold no more a thrall,
Shall here but build for Truth and gild
        The fruit that blooms for All.

Then sing the Tree of Liberty,
        And the men who shall defend
Its glorious future righteously
        For this all-glorious end—
That happiness all men to bless
        Out with its growth may grow—
Our Southern Tree of Liberty
        Shall flourish even so!


The Bushrangers - Contents


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