Pejar Creek

Deep in the meadow grass Easy stand the cattle, Lightly lock the young bulls In a mimic battle, Pride gathers with each shock, Every break and rally - That’s where the Pejar runs, Runs like a slip of silver through the valley. Softly as a thrush sings In the morning hushes, Softly sing the waters Round the reedy rushes, Softly at the sand-bar, Softly at the sally - That’s where the Pejar runs, Runs like a slip of silver through the valley. Where awakes the morning To dapple all the hills, Where dewdrop, shaken, Pendant slides and spills, Where the golden bugles Sunset calls reveille - That’s where the Pejar runs, Runs like a slip of silver through the valley. Where the springtime blossoms Like a mellow laughter, Over all the grasses, Over ridge and rafter, Over all the tree-tops, Down each ferny valley - That’s where the Pejar runs, Runs like a slip of silver through the valley. Where the Pejar rises Springs the Wollondilly, Twinned upon the mountains Babbling brook and ghyllie; Where the bridge-heads rumble Side by side they dally - Out where the Pejar runs, Runs like a slip of silver through the valley.