In winter when bleak nights are cold and frost embalms the place,
When all things brace against the snow and face the winds’ swift pace,
These winter winds are fierce at times and blow ferociously
through mountain passes, hills and flats, until they reach the tree.
The old Blue-gum has stood in place as long as I recall,
Its stolid roots have held the line though trees around it fall.
When gales ramp up their angry blasts with cruel ferocity,
The tree withstands the winds’ fierce bursts with real tenacity.
Midsummer’s unrelenting heat bears down upon the town,
The Blue-gum shades the river shoals until the sun goes down,
The fish oft seek the cooler waters resting while they can,
But while they rest the river heights reduce by half a hand.
And when a drought dries up the creeks and water’s very scarce,
When plains are dry and stock are sold and bushfires are fierce,
They know a time will come when rain will fall with all its might,
And man will find the will to stand though rugged be his plight.
The Blue-gum doesn’t muck about in standing up to drought,
Conserving moisture, shedding leaves, it lasts the trouble out,
It deals with storms and wind and rain, and snow all clean and bright,
A tough Australian growing strong, a truly splendid sight.