The Old Keg Of Rum – Banjo Paterson

My name is old Jack Palmer, 

I’m a man of olden days, 

And so I wish to sing a song 

To you of olden praise. 

To tell of merry friends of old 

When we were gay and young; 

How we sat and sang together 

Round the Old Keg of Rum. 
Oh! the Old Keg of Rum! the Old Keg of Rum! 

How we sat and sang together 

Round the Old Keg of Rum. 
There was I and Jack the plough-boy, 

Jem Moore and old Tom Hines, 

And poor old Tom the fiddler, 

Who now in glory shines; 
And several more of our old chums, 

Who shine in Kingdom Come, 

We all associated round the 

Old Keg of Rum. 
Oh! the Old Keg of Rum! the Old Keg of Rum! 

We all associated round the 

Old Keg of Rum. 
And when harvest time was over, 

And we’d get our harvest fee, 

We’d meet, and quickly rise the keg, 

And then we’d have a spree. 

We’d sit and sing together 

Till we got that blind and dumb 

That we couldn’t find the bunghole 

Of the Old Keg of Rum. 
Oh! the Old Keg of Rum! the Old Keg of Rum! 

That we couldn’t find the bunghole 

Of the Old Keg of Rum. 
Its jovially together, boys 

We’d laugh, we’d chat, we’d sing; 

Sometimes we’d have a little row 

Some argument would bring. 
And oftimes in a scrimmage, boys, 

I’ve corked it with my thumb, 

To keep the life from leaking 

From the Old Keg of Rum. 
Oh! the Old Keg of Rum! the Old Keg of Rum! 

To keep the life from leaking 

From the Old Keg of Rum. 
But when our spree was ended, boys, 

And waking from a snooze, 

For to give another drain 

The old keg would refuse. 

We’d rap it with our knuck 

If it sounded like a drum, 

We’d know the life and spirit 

Had left the Old Keg of Rum. 
Oh! the Old Keg of Rum! the Old Keg of Rum! 

We’d know the life and spirit 

Had left the Old Keg of Rum. 
Those happy days have passed away, 

I’ve seen their pleasures fade; 

And many of our good old friends 

Have with old times decayed. 
But still, when on my travels, boys, 

If I meet with an old chum, 

We will sigh, in conversation, 

Of the Grand Old Keg of Rum. 
Oh! the Old Keg of Rum! the Old Keg of Rum! 

We will sigh, in conversation, 

Of the Grand Old Keg of Rum. 
So now, kind friends, I end my song, 

I hope we’ll meet again, 

And, as I’ve tried to please you all, 

I hope you won’t complain. 

You younger folks who learn my song, 

Will, perhaps, in years to come, 

Remember old Jack Palmer 

And the Old Rum Of Rum. 
Oh! the Old Keg of Rum! the Old Keg of Rum! 

Remember old Jack Palmer 

And the Old Keg of Rum.

The Lost Drink – Banjo Paterson

I had spent the night in the watch-house — 

My head was the size of three — 

So I went and asked the chemist 

To fix up a drink for me; 

And he brewed it from various bottles 

With soda and plenty of ice, 

With something that smelt like lemon, 

And something that seemed like spice. 

It fell on my parching palate 

Like the dew on a sunbaked plain, 

And my system began to flourish 

Like the grass in the soft spring rain; 

It wandered throughout my being, 

Suffusing my soul with rest, 

And I felt as I “scoffed” that liquid 

That life had a new-found zest. 
I have been on the razzle-dazzle 

Full many a time since then 

But I never could get the chemist 

To brew me that drink again. 

He says he’s forgotten the notion — 

‘Twas only by chance it came — 

He’s tried me with various liquids 

But oh! they are not the same. 
We have sought, but we sought it vainly, 

That one lost drink divine; 

We have sampled his various bottles, 

But somehow they don’t combine: 

Yet I know when I cross the River 

And stand on the Golden Shore 

I shall meet with an angel chemist 

To brew me that drink once more.