place my revolver in my hand,
and leave me unburied as I lie.
by Adam Gustavus Ball
Adelaide: Penman & Galbraith.
There's a mournful sound on the desert winds borne,
Sad, broken and wild is the burden they bear,
Weep, weep for the brave, who have perished, forlorn,
And in Victory's moments, were left to despair,
The palm of proud Honor, its green branches waving,
Oh Erin, thy dauntless Son snatched from afar,
Where, Ocean, Thy shores, Carpentaria laving,
In loneliest grandeur, reflected Her star.
Ah, sad grows my heart, as I ponder Thy story,
In thy fate still Thy Country's wild emblem I see,
As the Sun from the dark clouds there bursts in his glory,
Thy Valor undaunted, sheds lustre o'er Thee.