An Australia guided by the spirit of the Eureka Tradition as symbolised by the diggers' flag and oath:
"We swear by the Southern Cross to stand truly by each other and fight to defend our rights and liberties"

Isle of France by Bob Bolton

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As the sun went down and the moon advanced,
A storm swept up on the "Isle of France".
That ship was swept on to hidden shoals,
I alone was saved of one hundred souls.

On a speedy barque, named for that fair isle,
I was sailing home, freed from durance vile,
To my old home town and to all I know,
When vengeful fate struck this heavy blow.

I fought the waves, fled the savage shark,
On a broken spar from our shattered barque.
I came ashore, in the dark of night,
Fifty miles west of Port Phillip light.

I was found and saved by a party bold,
Bound for Ballaarat, there to search for gold.
So I went with them, sharing good or ill:
Staked a digger's claim, south of Bakery Hill.

But the gold was scarce and the licence fee,
Was a pound too much for a man like me;
So with Lalor, Vern, and Black and Hayes,
A flag of stars, at Eureka raised.

That Sunday morn, we were scarce awake,
When the Redcoat troops did our stockade take.
Full thirty miners lay in their gore;
They thought they'd crushed us for evermore!

But the Miner's Right, we have won at last.
It's history now, the reforms have passed.
But remember how the reform was made
At Eureka Lead, in a bush stockade.