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The Geebung Polo Club

Written by: Andrew Barton Paterson | Biography
 | Quotes (1) |
That they formed an institution called the Geebung Polo Club. 
They were long and wiry natives from the rugged mountain side, 
And the horse was never saddled that the Geebungs couldn't ride; 
But their style of playing polo was irregular and rash -- 
And they played on mountain ponies that were muscular and strong, 
Though their coats were quite unpolished, 
and their manes and tails were long. 

That a polo club existed, called `The Cuff and Collar Team'. 
As a social institution 'twas a marvellous success, 
For the members were distinguished by exclusiveness and dress. 
For their cultivated owners only rode 'em once a week. 
And they took their valets with them -- just to give their boots a rub 
Ere they started operations on the Geebung Polo Club. 

Now my readers can imagine how the contest ebbed and flowed, 
A spectator's leg was broken -- just from merely looking on. 
Was the last surviving player -- so the game was called a tie. 

There was no one to oppose him -- all the rest were in a trance, 
So he scrambled on his pony for his last expiring chance, 
So he struck at goal -- and missed it -- then he tumbled off and died. 

. . . . . 

There's a row of little gravestones that the stockmen never pass, 
For they bear a crude inscription saying, `Stranger, drop a tear, 
For the Cuff and Collar players and the Geebung boys lie here.' 
And on misty moonlit evenings, while the dingoes howl around, 
You can see their shadows flitting down that phantom polo ground; 
You can hear the loud collisions as the flying players meet, 
Till the terrified spectator rides like blazes to the pub -- 
He's been haunted by the spectres of the Geebung Polo Club.