The season is over;
The shearing is done;
The wages are paid; and
The ‘sprees’ have begun.
But never a shanty
Gets sight of my cheques;
For far down the Murray
My Annie expects
A heart that is faithful,
A head that is clear,
And sufficient provisions
To last for a year.
More verses by Henry Lawson
- Constable M‘carty’s Investigations
- Cypher Seven [07]
- The Watch On The Kerb
- The Vanguard [1]
- The Writer's Dream