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By homestead, hut, and shearing-shed,
By railroad, coach, and track -
By lonely graves where rest our dead,
Up Country and Out Back;
To where beneath the clustered stars
The dreamy plains expand -
My home lies wide a thousand miles
In the Never-Never Land.

It lies beyond the farming-belts,
Wide wastes of scrub and plain,
A blazing desert in the drought,
A lake-land after rain;
To the skyline sweeps the waving grass,
Or whirls the scorching sand -
A phantom land, a mystic realm!
The Never-Never Land.

The Arab to the desert sand,
The Finn to fens and snow,
The 'Flax-stick' dreams of Maoriland,
While seasons come and go.
Whatever stars may glow or burn
O'er lands of East and West,
The wandering heart of man will turn
To one it loves the best.

Lest in the city I forget
True mateship, after all,
My waterbag and billy yet
are hanging on the wall.
And I, to save my soul, again
Would tramp to sunsets grand
With sad-eyed mates across the plain
In the Never-Never Land.

Written by Henry Lawson.
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For a thousand years in your sight are like a day that has just gone by,
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