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Anybody got a fix on this one?

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(@the grey)
Posts: 0
New Member

Can you help me find the author and words of an old bush poem I learnt
as a kid in Roma? I've been searching for it for ages, tried Google, the
National Library and all the old Patterson, Lawson, O'Reilly etc. books
I can find, to no avail.

The title could have been "The Cottage", and the first stanza went
something like:

"The cottage was a small one,
The outside poor and mean,
But everything within that cot
Was wondrous neat and clean."

Someone suggested it could have been in one of the Queensland School
Readers c.1940-50, but I don't think so. A friend's father used to
recite it, and it always made the girls cry!

If it could be found and perhaps put to music, sure to be a hit!

Best regards

Jack Watson

Please email Merv at

Posted : 30/03/2007 11:36 pm
Posts: 102
Estimable Member

The Collier's Dying Child - by Edward Farmer

The cottage was a thatched one
The outside old and mean
Yet everything within that cot
Was wondrous neat and clean

The night was dark and stormy
The wind was howling wild
A patient mother knelt beside
The deathbed of her child

A little worn out creature
Whose once bright eyes grown dim
He was the collier’s only child
They called him little Jim

And oh to see the burning tears fast running down her cheek
As she offered up her prayers in thought she was afraid to speak
Lest she might wake one she loved far better than her life
For there was all a mothers love in that poor colliers wife

With hands uplifted she kneels beside the sufferer’s bed
And prayed that the night spare her boy and take herself instead
She gets her answer from the child softly fall the words from him
Mother the angels do so smile and beckon little Jim

I have no pain dear mother now
But oh I am so dry
Just moisten poor Jim’s lips once more
And mother, do not cry

With gentle trembling hands
She held the cup to his lips
He smiled to thank her as he took
Three tiny little sips

Tell father when comes from work
I said good night to him
And now dear mother I’ll go to sleep
Alas poor little Jim

She saw that he was dying
The child she loved so dear
Had uttered these last words
That she might ever hope to hear

The cottage door was opened
The collier’s steps were heard
The father and the mother met
Yet neither spoke a word

He knew that all was over
He knew his child was dead
He took the candle in his hand
And walked towards the bed

His quivering lips gave token
Of grief he failed to conceal
To see his wife had joined him
So the stricken couple kneel

With hearts burdened down with sadness
She humbly asks of him
In heaven once more to meet again
Their own poor little Jim

Posted : 01/04/2007 9:38 am
(@the grey)
Posts: 0
New Member

Goodonya Babe, sure appreciate that.


Posted : 02/04/2007 7:15 pm