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Ruffus
Ruffus Page
You may sing of the wattle, the gold and the green,
On Australia's fair palette these colours are seen;
When I think of this country in her many moods,
The colour I'd choose would be all shades of blue.

There's the blue of the bush and the blue of the bay.
Clear, azure-blue sky on a bright, summer's day.
By night, royal-blue heavens, embroidered with stars
By an Artist, whose hand are more skilled than ours.

Sacred-Kingfisher - flash of blue through the trees.
Dark, rolling blue of rough, raging seas.
And your ginger-haired cobber, ever mates, he and you,
Since he was a nipper, he's always been "Blue".

Blue, distant mountains, as of the earth torn.
Glowering, slate-blue of clouds that bring storms.
Sky, native violet; fragile blue-wren.
Blue sparkle of light on drops of sweet rain.

Blue of the ensign, background of our flag.
Stockman's faithful servant, his blue cattle-dog.
From the chimney of the homestead, smoke, blue, seems to say
"Welcome back" to the weary, at the close of the day.

Of all Nature's colours, her vast, varied hues,
Not one says "Australia" more than true blue.

Author Unknown
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