Get the Kleenex out and do Song of the Thrush. I can't find it in DT so here are the words. If you don't know the tune there are recordings by Bob Hart and Fred Jordan. If you want dots there are scans of the sheet music at www.catalogue.nla.gov.au/Record/45601

Years ago in the wilds of Australia
Out in the goldfields there once stood a camp.
The miners were made up of all sorts of classes
With many a scapegoat and many a scamp.
Then into their midst came a young man from England
And with him he brought a small thrush in a cage.
To hear the bird sing they would flock round in dozens
That sweet little songster became all the rage
CHO There fell a deep hush
As the song of the thrush
Was heard by that motley throng.
Many a rough fellow's eyes grew dim
As the bird sang out clear and strong.
Eyes lighted up with a bright yearning look
As the bird sang it's beautiful lay
It brought to their minds.
Dear old England at home
Thousands of miles away.

Rough were those miners all fierce-looking fellows,
Yet they were human and worshipped that bird.
When quarrels arose they would break off and listen
If only the voice of their favourite they heard.
All round for miles he at last got quite famous,
On Sunday the miners Would come from afar,
And many declared they preferred the bird's singing
To the cards and the dice in the rough liquor bars.

Ofttimes they'd think of the cornfields and meadows,
And many's the quiet little country lane;
And hearts ached and yearned as they thought of some village,
And she they had dearly loved, but all in vain.
When the bird sang all those hard fellows listened.
Perhaps they got tired of the bird? No such thing!
As one rough expressed it 'It came like an angel;
And it makes you feel good, like, to hear the bird sing."