A Treasury of South African Poetry and Verse/Amy Sutherland
THE DIGGER'S SONG.
Oh, mates, the veldt is brown and bare,
And drought is on the land;
But beneath lie the glittering veins of gold,
Like the cords in this broad brown hand.
Then dig for the glittering gold!
Dig for the wealth untold!
Dig with a fire that can never tire,
Down, down to the glittering gold.
Oh, mates, we left some living friends
Away across the sea;
But my sweetheart here, in the brown earth's breast,
Is dearer far to me.
Then hurrah for the glittering gold!
Hurrah for the wealth untold!
We'll win it, we'll spend it, we'll drink it, we'll lend it,
We'll live for the glittering gold.
My sweetheart's hair is yellow, bright
As the sun in yonder sky;
But shy my sweetheart is, and dark
The place where she does lie.
Then drink to the glittering gold!
Drink to the wealth untold!
Drink deep and long, with laughter and song,
Drink, drink to the glittering gold!
My sweetheart's bright as the rising sun,
And cold as the waning moon;
And hard as the stones in the water-course
'Neath the dust and glare of noon.
Then a health to the glittering gold!
A health to the wealth untold!
A health, my lads, to the fairest of maids,
A health to the glittering gold!