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MURRAY GHOSTS
Ripples ran in, gently lapping
Weathered red gum slabbing,
The empty river sang to me, a song of
yesteryear,
I leaned against the railing,
I heard the paddles flailing,
Saw a beautiful old river boat slowiy
drawing near.
In my dreams I've often seen her,
This great white paddlesteamer,
Docking at Echuca in the first pale light
of dawn,
I have seen the townfolk hurry
To the wharves there by the Murray,
In answer to the summons of the sweet
note of her horn.
Hordes of shouting children running
Down to see the cargo come in,
Dogs barking, darting madly round a
rattling horse and dray,
Patient bullocks standing
With the wool bales by the landing,
Troopers marching briskly, herding convicts
clad in grey.
Laden handcars clattered loudly,
The skipper boasted proudly,
River Queen had challenged Adelaide
and won,
There were many there quite willing
To help him spend a shilling
In noisy celebration when the loading was
all done.
Sturdy river road work horses
Ploughed the water courses,
Carried stores and passengers from inland
to the sea,
Lifeblood of a nation,
Town and outback station
Depended on the "wheelers" for each
neccesity.
There are ghosts here on the waterway,
Countless churning craft that lay
But briefly, fading swiftly in a drift
of morning haze,
The spirit of the river
Will live on here for ever,
A legacy of courage, from our
pioneering days.
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