Swan Arcade - Van Dieman's Land lyrics

Come, all you gallant poachers That ramble void of care, That walk out on a moonlight night With dog and gun and snare Here's the hare and lofty pheasant They stand at your command, But you don't think of the dangers All on Van Dieman's Land There was poor Tom Brown from Nottingham, Jack Williams, and poor Joe, Three of the daring poachers The country did well know; One night they was trap-hunted By a keeper hid in sand And never thought their sport would end All on Van Dieman's Land Oh, the very first day we landed All on that fatal shore, The planters came round us About four score and more; They ranked us out like horses And they sold us out of hand, And they yoked us to the plough, brave boys, To plough Van Dieman's Land. Oh, the wretched huts we live in Are built from clots and clay With rotten straw for bedding We dare not to say nay; As for the wretched females, See them we seldom can; There are twenty men for every woman All on Van Dieman's Land One night, all in my slumbers, I had a pleasant dream; I dreamed I was with my dear wife Down by (?) stream With the children's prattling voice Around me they did stand; I awoke, quite broken-hearted, All on Van Dieman's Land Oh, if I had a thousand pounds All laid out in my hand, I'd give it all for liberty If that I could command; Again to England I'd return And I'd be a happy man, And I'd bid adieu to poaching And to Van Dieman's Land La la la la La la la la La la la la la la