March, brothers, march, the morn is cool, and no obstruction near,
Tutored in hardships bracing school, we’ll soon a passage clear,
The mountain rough and ravine steep, the parched extensive plain,
The ductile scrub and river deep, are powerless to detain.
Free selectors we shall be, when our journey’s end we see,
Working wealthy ground with glee – free selectors we shall be.
Those agitators still discuss, our getting on the lands.
But what’s the use of farms to us, that would but chain our hands?
Still we accept them eagerly and have the witness know
If government will guarantee, there’s plenty gold below.
Free selectors we will be, if yellow soil they’ll guarantee,
Holding lengthy claims rent free, free selectors we will be.
Let each apply his trade, and thrive, the mining task is ours.
To work in subterranean drive, till death our strength overpowers
We’ll bid goodbye to mining then, and agriculturalists be
For every fellow will obtain, a farm six foot by three
Free selectors we will be, deserting mineralology,
Retired to farms six foot by three, Free selectors we shall be.