In Possum Land the nights are fair,
The streams are fresh and clear;
No dust is in the moonlit air;
No traffic jars the ear.
With Possums gambolling overhead,
'Neath western stars so grand,
Ah! would that we could make our bed
Tonight in Possum Land.
More verses by Henry Lawson
- A Dirge Of Joy
- Out On The Roofs Of Hell
- The Men We Might Have Been
- As Good As New
- The Iron Wedding Rings