Look Out Below

Charles R. Thatcher

 

A young man left his native shores,

For trade was bad at home;

To seek his fortune in this land

He crossed the briny foam;

And when he went to Ballarat,

It put him in a glow,

To hear the sound of the windlass,

And the cry "Look out below!"

 

Wherever he turned his wandering eyes

Great wealth he did behold,

And peace and plenty hand in hand,

By the magic power of gold;

Quoth he, "As I am young and strong,

To the diggings I will go,

For I like the sound of the windlass

And the cry 'Look out belowl'"

 

Amongst the rest he took his chance,

And his luck at first was vile;

But he still resolved to persevere,

And at length he made his pile.

So says he, "I'll take my passage,

And home again I'll go,

And I'll say farewell to the windlass

And the cry 'Look out below!' "

 

Arrived in London once again,

His gold he freely spent

And into every gaiety

And dissipation went.

But pleasure, if prolonged too much,

Oft causes pain, you know,

And he missed the sound of the windlass,

And the cry "Look out below!"

 

And thus he reasoned with himself,

"Oh, why did I return?

For the digger's independent life

I now begin to yearn.

Here purse-proud lords the poor oppress,

But there it is not so;

Give me the sound of the windlass,

And the cry 'Look out below!'"

 

So he started for this land again,

With a charming little wife;

And he finds there's nothing comes up to

A jolly digger's life.

Ask him if he'll go back again,

He'll quickly answer, "No!"

For he loves the sound of the windlass,

And the cry "Look out below."