In A Land Where Sport Is Sacred,

Oh, My Ways Are Strange Ways And New Ways And Old Ways, And Deep Ways And Steep Ways And High Ways And Low, I'm At Home And At Ease On A Track That I Know Not, And Restless And Lost On A Road That I Know.

It Is Quite Time That Our Children Were Taught A Little More About Their Country, For Shame's Sake.

It Is A Matter Of Public Shame That While We Have Now Commemorated Our Hundredth Anniversary, Not One In Every Ten Children Attending Public Schools Throughout The Colonies Is Acquainted With A Single Historical Fact About Australia.

The Children Are Taught More Of The Meanest State In Europe Than Of The Country They Are Born And Bred In, Despite The Singularity Of Its Characteristics, The Interest Of Its History, The Rapidity Of Its Advance, And The Stupendous Promise Of Its Future.

The Old Shepherd Had Died, Or Got Drunk, Or Got Rats, Or Got The Sack, Or A Legacy, Or Got Sane, Or Chucked It, Or Got Lost, Or Found, Or A Wife, Or Had Cut His Throat, Or Hanged Himself, Or Got Into Parliament Or The Peerage Anyway, Anything Had Happened To Him That Can Happen To An Old Shepherd Or Any Other Man In The Bush, And He Wasn't There.