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- The Post Office Bells
Ring forth, ye bells; begin to chime;
Ring in the right, ring out the wrong;
We've waited patiently and long;
Ring, welcome bells; it's nearly time.
Ring out this never-ending rain—
These floods that compass us about;
Ring in a long-protracted drought,
Till mud return to dust again.
Then, six weeks hence, when things look dry.
And thirsty meadows pray for rain,
King in the long-lost floods again—
But stop before they rise too high.
Those carvings dire, that smirk and grin,
Ring out, ring 'out without remorse;
Ring out the Cyclorama horse;
But ring the truer artist in.
Ring out the empty fools that hoot
To drown great speakers with their din;
Or, if you can't do that, ring in
The bludgeon and the heavy boot.
Ring in a Parliament of peace,
Ring out false charges, tricks unfair;
Ring in obedience to the Chair,
Ring out the all night gabbling geese.
Ring out the men who try to baulk
Those bills the country sorely needs;
Ring in a session of great deeds,
Ring out obstruction, idle talk.
Ring out our members' faults
;
Ring out the deficit of Dibbs,
But ring a mighty surplus in.
Ring out the members' midnight trams,
That cost the country such a sum;
Ring out the undue taste for rum
That fires some legislative lambs.
Ring out disunion; jealous blood
That fetters young Australia's might;
Ring out provincial petty spite;
Ring in a broader brotherhood.
Ring, mighty bells; make up lost time;
Ring all the changes that you know.
We want more changes here, I trow,
Than you can give: begin to chime.
Ring night and day, with clarion clang;
Ring in the good; ring out the ill;
But don't, as some folk say you will,
Ring down the tower in which you hang.
Robert Garran (en)
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