Edward Dyson

In days before the trouble Jo was rated as     a slob
He chose to sit in hourly expectation of a job
He'd loop hisself upon a post, for seldom     friends had he,
A gift of patient waitin' his distinctif quality

We were challenged by The Dingoes — they're the pride of Squatter's Gap—To a friendly game of football on the flat by Devil's Trap
And we went along on horses, sworn to triumph in the game,
For the honour of Gyp's Diggings, and the glory...

It is thirty moons since I slung me hook From the job at the hay and corn,
Took me solemn oath, 'n' I straight forsook All the ways of life, dinkum ways 'n' crook, 'N' the things on which it was good to look Since the day when a bloke was bor...

Back again 'n' nothin' missin' barrin' arf a hand,
Where an Abdul bit me, chokin' in the Holy Land
'Struth, they got some dirty fighters in the Moslem pack,
Bull-nosed slugs their sneakin' snipers spat ters in yer back Blows a gapin...

UT OF
CK, mate
Have a liquor
Hang it, where’s the use complaining

UT of work and out of money—out of friends that means, you bet—Out of firewood, togs and tucker, out of everything but debt—And I loathe the barren pavements, and the crowds a fellow meets,
And the maddening repetition of the suffocating stre...

NG the swamp and the tangled scrub, Tramping and turning amidst the trees,
Carrying nothing but blankets and grub, Careless of pleasure and health and ease,
Hither and thither with never a goal, Heavy, and solemn, and stiff, and slow,