COME out, O Miss, of yonder 'omestead proud: Wot I can't get inside (the shearer sang)— Inside the shoulder cold they'd give your Bill! So cease to live within the 'omestead, cease Thy sunbeam-soapy smiles to waste on pa, To stand the stare of Jackeroo Esquire; And come and mash @3me@1 in the mallee, come And mash me in the mallee, roll thou up And join me on the snug selection, @3me,@1 Whose 'ands and land a "bit" will always raise, Who never blues his cheque amid the vats, But, ant-like, saveth all; so ne'er need walk Like snails, and swaggies on their uppers borne. Lor'! the fust time your ravin' locks I seen Down dropped my 'art, as dropped the fleece of snow That all about me ringer-cloven fell, The tally-torrent from my dusky paws; D'ye foller? Come, O come, a peg come down, Live with me in the mallee, let the wild Bald-headed boss @3be@1 wild (my troubles!)—leave The crawling jackeroo to mop and swill, And watch the smoke-wreaths from his cigarette Fade, like 'is last remittance, from 'is sight: So fade thou, too, and come where my love-tales Await thee; feather pillers my sweet-art, I buys for thee; thy shearer calls thee, I, I and my pipe (and sweet as it's bin found Unto my lips, sweeter thy lips would be), Come—or, hard-hurrying like a sheep just shorn, Will issue droves from my tonsorial gums Of really quite innumerable B's. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ENGLAND'S DEAD by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS FIELD AMBULANCE IN RETREAT; VIA DOLOROSA, VIA SACRA by MAY SINCLAIR THE COTTAGER TO HER INFANT by DOROTHY WORDSWORTH THE SWORD by ABU BAKR OF MARRAKESH THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: INDIAN LOVE SONG by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |