The Stringy-Bark Tree

There's the whitebox and pine on the ridges afar,

Where the iron-bark, blue-gum, and peppermint are;

There is many another, but dearest to me,

And the king of them all was the stringy-bark tree.

Then of stringy-bark slabs were the walls of the hut,

And from stringy-bark saplings the rafters were cut;

And the roof that long sheltered my brothers and me

Was of broad sheets of bark from the stringy-bark tree.

And when sawn-timber homes were built out in the West,

Then for walls and for ceilings its wood was the best;

And for shingles and palings to last while men be,

There was nothing on earth like the stringy-bark tree.

Far up the long gullies the timber-trucks went,

Over tracks that seemed hopeless, by bark hut and tent;

And the gaunt timber-finder, who rode at his ease,

Led them on to a gully of stringy-bark trees.

Now still from the ridges, by ways that are dark,

Come the shingles and palings they call stringy-bark;

Though you ride through long gullies a twelve months you’ll see

But the old whitened stumps of the stringy-bark tree.