A somewhat indulgent choice - this is an anonymous poem about my home town and the bushranger Ben Hall. The Book of Australian Popular Rhymed Verse has this in its Sadness and Sorrow section.
THE STREETS OF FORBES
ANON
Come all you Lachlan men, and a sorrowful tale I'll tell.
Concerning of a hero bold who through misfortune fell.
His name it was Ben Hall, man of good renown,
Who was hunted from is station, and like a dog shot down.
Three years he roamed the roads, and he showed the traps some fun;
A thousand pound was on his head, with Gilbert and John Dunn.
Ben parted from his comrades, the outlaws did agree
To give away bushranging and cross the briny sea.
Ben went to Goobang Creek, and that was his downfall;
For riddled like a sieve was valiant Ben Hall.
'Twas early in the morning upon the fifth of May
When the seven police surrounded him as fast asleep he lay.
Bill Dargin he was chosen to shoot the outlaw dead;
The troopers then fired madly, and filled him full of lead.
They rolled him in a blanket, and strapped him to his prad,
And led him through the streets of Forbes to show the prize they had.
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