Here in Dover,
Where the cows eat clover;
The river runs slow,
And mountains lie low.
Dover is a town,
That sits right down;
From the other Dover town,
Just a little below Hobart.
Amidst the trees and hill,
Where ducks drink water from bills;
They're lies a little park,
Where I stay through day and dark.
Here in the quiet,
Beneath it all;
Where the world goes by,
No time to call.
The peace and the quiet,
Beautiful tranquillity;
Away from the hustle and bustle,
Of the living city.
A few shops line,
The public street;
With people around,
Who are willing to meet.
They all come out,
Of their homes and say;
That this is Dover,
It's alright you pay.
A million towns could,
Have had it all;
But Dovers left still,
Outstanding and small.
You can walk along the beach,
To talk and to teach;
Something here in the weather,
Let you learn or whether.
The distant hills,
Across the river side;
Are consuming the looks,
As visitors amount.
And ideas of English cliffs,
Dover here knows diffs;
Few fishing boats dock,
On wood wharf's not rock.
Dover too has apples due,
And orchards here are plenty;
As down now breaks,
This island makes,
Signed
Tasmania's Dover is heavenly.
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