High on the hills, where the tall trees grow,
There lives an axeman that I know.
From his little hut by a ferny creek,
Day after day, week after week,
He goes each morn with his shining axe,
Trudging along by the forest tracks;
And he chops and he chops till the daylight
High on the hills, where the blue-gum grows.(Chip! . .
Chop! . .
Chip! . .
Chop!)There's a log to move and a branch to lop.
Now to the felling! His sharp axe
Into a tree on the forest heights,
And scarce for a breath does the axeman stop-(Chip! . .
Chop! . .
Chip! . .
Chop!)Bell-birds watch him; and in the
Wallabies listen awhile, and
Back through the bracken, and off they hop.(Chip! . .
Chop! . .
Chip! . -.
Chop!)Patient and tireless, blow on
The axeman swings as the minutes go;
While the echoes ring from the mountain-top.(Chip! . .
Chop! . .
Chip! . .
Chop!)Round about him the. rabbits play,
Skipping and scampering all the day,
And the sweet young grass by the logs they crop.(Chip! . .
Chop! . .
Chip! . .
Chop!)Crimson parrots above him climb,
The
Chattering, chattering all the time,
As down from the branches the twigs they drop.(Chip! . .
Chop! . .
Chip! Chop!)Steadily, surely, on he goes,
Shaking the tree with his mighty blows:
There's never a pause and there's never a stop.(Chip! . .
Chop! . .
Chip! . .
Chop!)Out from the bush beyond is
The swaggering song of the
Seeking a joint for his butcher's shop.(Chip! . .
Chop! . .
Chip! . .
Chop!)Deeper and deeper the cut creeps in,
While the parrots shriek with a deafening din,
And the chips fly out with a flip and a flop.(Chip! Chop! Chip! Chop!)Yellow robins come flocking round,
Watching the chips as they fall to ground,
Darting to catch the g ubs that drop.(Chip! . .
Chop! . .
Chip! . .
Chop!)The blows come quicker.
The axe~biade hums,
Stand well back, there, before she comes!
Hark!
How the splinters crack and pop-(Chip! . .
Chop! . .
Chip! . .
Chop!)Listen! Listen! She's creaking now!
Look, high up, at that trembling bough!
Another second, and down she'll smash,
Shaking the earth with a mighty crash;
Look at her!
Look at her! (Chip! Chop!
Chip! . . . . . . . .
Chip!) Wee - E - E - E - E - E —
OP!
