The Geebung Polo Club

And the Geebung Polo Club was formed on our bank’s green land, For the game was ‘every man for himself’ And it was no one’s stand, When they met on the ground at the Polo ground down in the mud. And the pennants flew as we took to the mark, With cheer after cheer for my side that was hard to test, And galloping wide for a doubt in the land; And dash for mighty charge with a chase embarked.

And the dreams were wrought of coarse threads of light With the laughter of men unknown, And the crowd prowled, a-brimming with sport, To see the game that will land on its tides, uncertain, yet rare. But heard were the cheers of the archers round With shrieks in the air: it was chance in pursuit — Swathed within the shadows a dream might unfold.

And so, to the gallops and fun of the morn What a joy to the Geebung crew they had on! But stir of the stir of the wind in the boughs Though So many a thirst was unquenched, blew it up! With bright stars aglow, they ended strong And as they laid it down, they surged all about And the nights would call too long, but my pulse ran high, And we fell and fell each a thousand times In our shapes of delight, yet were joined yet alone.

• Banjo Paterson