Before We Were Married
Blacksoil plains were grey soil, grey soil in the drought. Fifteen years away, and five hundred miles out; Swag and bag and billy carried all our care Before we were married, and I wish that I were there. River banks were grassy grassy in the bends, Running through the land where mateship never ends; We belled the lazy fishing lines and droned the time away Before we were married, and I wish it were to-day. Working down the telegraph winters’ gales and rains Cross the tumbled scenery of Marlborough plains, Beach and bluff and cook’s tent and the cook was a cow Before we were married, but I wish that it was now. The rolling road to Melbourne, and grey-eyed girl in fur One arm to a stanchion and one round her; Seat abaft the skylight when the moon had set Before she was married, and I wish it wasn’t yet.