Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SHEARER'S SERENADE, by PIERRE CASSEE



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THE SHEARER'S SERENADE, by            
First Line: Come out, o miss, of yonder 'omestead proud
Last Line: Of really quite innumerable b's.
Alternate Author Name(s): Bushy Bill
Subject(s): Desire; Labor & Laborers; Love; Sheep; Work; Workers


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 me in the mallee, come
And mash me in the mallee, roll thou up
And join me on the snug selection, me,
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 be 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.





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