Eureka Jack

"Eureka Jack" wrote poetry about the goldfields and Eureka.

THE PUBLICAN'S PROPHESY Grab the Ballarat Times me Lads, and read me what they say

About the death at Bentley's of that digger, Saturday

Oh, That Seekamp's pen is poison Lads, he's rousing once again

Soon LaTrobe or maybe Doveton will be driving Seekamp's pen.

They whisper on the diggins that D'Ewes will let him free

A scoundrel of a Magistrate, an easy buy is he

He owes a debt to Bentley and his cursed Eureka Inn

I tell you Lads, I reckon that a fight will soon begin

You all may sit and doubt me, that is your prerogative

Yes, we may sit on wealthy claims, but other fellows live

Way below the cost of life and sure they cannot pay

Three pounds a month for licences, they'll fight the Traps one day!

There's rumbling on the diggings, I'd be keeping mighty clear

Of that red-haired Carboni and his scatterbrain idea

That we can fight the Crown and win, I tell you all he's daft!

Though the Governor is pushing Licence Hunting every shaft.

I hear they're set to fly their flag, the white stars of the Cross

Ha! The man who mocks the Union Jack the Traps are set to squash!

Keep clear of these insurgents lest you want to join the fight

But me, I'll put them in my prayers before I sleep each night.

So pass me down the Ballarat Times, I'll read it for myself

Perhaps between the lines he's written something worth it's pelf

And mark my words it's coming, Lads, the Miners and the Crown

Will be at war before the Yule befalls our Ballarat Town!