Henry Lawson

A Dan Yell

I wish I’d never gone to board In that house where I met The touring lady from abroad, Who mocks my nightmares yet. I wish I wish that she had saved Her news of what she’d seen That Dan O’Connor is clean shaved And parts his hair between. The ladies down at Manly now And widows understood No more deplore their marriage vow Or hopeless widowhood. For Dan O’Connor is the same As though he’d never been, Since Daniel shaved that shave of shame, And combed his hair between. No more, Oh Bards, in Danyel tones He’ll voice our several fames, And nevermore he’ll mix our bones As once he mixed our names. Let Southern minstrels dree their weird And lay their sad harps down, For Dan O’Connor’s shorn of beard And cracked across the crown. The lobby and refreshment room Are shorn of half their larks, A newer ghost now haunts the gloom That knew the ghost of Parkes: The brightest joke Australia had Is but a hopeless grunt It went for ever mad and bad When Daniel shaved his front. The fair Spotswhoshky weeps indeed Frogsleggi and Bung Lung With none to greet and none to speed Them in their native tongue! By Sucklar Key nor Golden Gate No Dan is ever seen Since Dan O’Connor wiped his slate And notched his top between. But Dan O’Connor (Lord knows best The thing might be a sell) You surely will forgive a jest From one who wished you well When we’ve forgot the face we feared And Time has deadened pain, Oh! Dan O’Connor, grow your beard, And come to us again.

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