Author: Banjo Paterson (Andrew Barton)

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"You come and see me, boys," he said;
"You'll find a welcome and a bed
And whiskey any time you call;
Although our township hasn't got
The name of quite a lively spot,
You see, I live in Booligal.

"And people have an awful down
Upon the district and the town,
Which worse than hell itself the call;
In fact, the saying far and wide
Along the Riverina side
Is 'Hay and Hell and Booligal'.

"No doubt it suits 'em very well
To say its worse than Hay or Hell,
But don't you heed their talk at all;
Of course, there's heat, no one denies,
And sand and dust and stacks of flies,
And rabbits, too, at Booligal.

"But such a pleasant, quiet place,
You never see a stranger's face;
They hardly ever care to call;
The drovers mostly pass it by,
They reckon that they'd rather die
Than spend the night in Booligal.

"The big mosquitoes frighten some,
You'll lie awake to hear 'em hum,
And snakes about the township crawl;
But shearers, when they get their cheque,
They never come along and wreck
The blessed town of Booligal.

"But down to Hay the shearers come
And fill themselves with fighting-rum,
And chase blue devils up the wall,
And fight the snaggers every day,
Until there is the deuce to pay,
There's none of that in Booligal.

"Of course, there isn't much to see,
The billiard-table used to be
The great attraction for us all,
Until some careless, drunken curs
Got sleeping on it in their spurs,
And ruined it, in Booligal.

"Just now there is a howling drought
That pretty near has starved us out,
It never seems to rain at all;
But, if there should come any rain,
You couldn't cross the black-soil plain,
You'd have to stop in Booligal."

            *             *             *             *             *             *

"We'd have to stop!" With bated breath
We prayed that both in life and death
Our fate in other lines might fall;
"Oh, send us to our just reward
In Hay or Hell, but, gracious Lord,
Deliver us from Booligal!"

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Type of Poem: Narrative Poem

Date Written:

Date Published:

Language: English

Keywords: Public Domain

Source: Public Domain Collection

Publisher:

Rights/Permissions: Public Domain

Comments/Notes: The poem vividly portrays life in Booligal, a small town in Australia, with a blend of humor, irony, and candid realism. The speaker’s voice has a distinctly conversational, even amiable tone, inviting the reader into their world with both warmth and a touch of self-deprecating wit, yet there's also an undercurrent of desolation and hardship running through the narrative.

The primary theme of the poem is the isolation and harsh conditions of rural life, particularly in areas stricken by drought. This is presented through stark images like "a howling drought," "sand and dust and stacks of flies," along with the haunting hum of mosquitoes and the threatening presence of snakes. There's a notable contrast between the speaker's claimed fondness for the town and the harsh realities they describe, creating a sense of irony. This irony is further emphasized by the fervent prayer at the end of the poem, where death in "Hay or Hell" is preferred over life in Booligal.

The structure of the poem is consistent, with a steady rhythm and rhyme scheme, giving it a musicality that belies the harshness of the content. The use of local vernacular and references to specific places and customs, like "shearers" and "fighting-rum," add authenticity to the narrative and ground it in a specific cultural and geographical context.

In terms of literary devices, the poet uses repetition effectively, particularly in the refrain about Booligal, to underscore the town's unavoidable presence in the speaker's life. The poem also employs vivid sensory imagery to bring the town and its challenging conditions to life, making the reader feel almost as if they've had a brief visit to Booligal themselves.