From Western Post & Mudgee Newspaper: Saturday, October 12, 1861 Poetry By John GOODRIDGE, Guntawang The Wattle Tree Now beauteously and gloriously Doth gleam a forest gem, That rears to cheer our wild woods A bright flower-bearing stem, Where proudly high flaunts to the sky The leaf-webbed canopy; Beneath it there more lovely fair Peeps forth the Wattle Tree. How dazzlingly and brilliantly It goldenly doth bend Its clustering blooms, while sweet perfumes With heaven's own breezes blend, As mild and blest at its behest They ring for revelry, And joyous play through lightsome day Around the Wattle Tree. As rolls the day his tedious way, The silent shepherd wends Where seldom change o'er vision's range His lonely walk attends; Though summer burns and autumn turns To winter drearily, Him wakening spring doth gaily bring The bud on the Wattle Tree. Those wond'rous things, whose snowy wings Spread on the mighty wavy, For traffic's sport from port to port The battling surges brave; And from our shore the blue seas o'er Oft bears the argosy A cargo share for factors' care Stript from the Wattle Tree. Oft to the bed where tears are shed By friends of sickness nigh, And faintly heard the muffled word, Companion on the sigh, Life's sand near run, some loving one Doth unexpectedly The prize of health, more worth than wealth Bring from the Wattle Tree. Oh! Dear to me shall ever be The sheen of its glittering crown, In its rivaling play with the sunny ray At noontide streaming down. When fled the light, and come dark night, Earth's day no more for me, Where'er my grave, map on it wave The shade of the Wattle Tree. ***END*** N.B. All care has been taken to transcribe the above accurately, however errors may have been inadvertently made. Spelling of names/places should be as appears in original. Transcribed from microfilm available from the State Library. Annette Piper Coolah NSW