Moreton Bay (a Convict’s Lament)
Gary Shearston| Original | Version by Simon McDonald |
| MORETON BAY (A CONVICT’S LAMENT) One Sunday morning as I went walking By Brisbane waters I chanced to stray I heard a convict his fate bewailing As on the sunny river bank I lay I am a native from Erin's island But banished now from my native shore They stole me from my aged parents And from the maiden I do adore I've been a prisoner at Port Macquarie At Norfolk Island and Emu Plains At Castle Hill and at cursed Toongabbie At all these settlements I've been in chains But of all places of condemnation And penal stations in New South Wales To Moreton Bay I have found no equal Excessive tyranny each day prevails For three long years I was beastly treated And heavy irons on my legs I wore My back from flogging was lacerated And oft times painted with my crimson gore And many a man from downright starvation Lies mouldering now underneath the clay And Captain Logan he had us mangled All at the triangles of Moreton Bay Like the Egyptians and ancient Hebrews We were oppressed under Logan's yoke Till a native black lying there in ambush Did deal this tyrant his mortal stroke My fellow prisoners be exhilarated That all such monsters such a death may find And when from bondage we are liberated Our former sufferings will fade from mind | A CONVICT'S LAMENT I am a native of the land of Erin I was early banished from my native shore On the ship Columbus went circular sailing And I left behind me the girl I adore Over bounding billows which was loudly raging Like a bold sea mariner my course did steer We were bound for Sydney our destination And every day in irons wore When I arrived 'twas in Port Jackson And I thought my days would happy be But I found out I was greatly mistaken I was taken a prisoner to Moreton Bay Chorus Moreton Bay you'll find no equal Norfolk Island and Emu Plains At Castle Hill and cursed Toongabie And all time places in New South Wales Now every morning as the day was dawning As we rose from heaven fell the morning dew And we were roused without a moments warning Our daily labour to renew For three long years I was beastly treated And heavy irons on my legs I wore My back from flogging was lacerated And oft-times painted with crimson gore Like the Egyptians and ancient Hebrews We were oppressed under Logan's yoke But a native black there lay in ambush Did give this tyrant a mortal stroke Now fellow prisoners be exhilarated That all such monsters such death may find And when from bondage we are liberated From our former sufferings shall fade from mind |
