Would I were a profit monger,
Buying cheap, and selling dear,
Groceries, or something stronger,
Toys, or pipes, or sporting gear,
Wrong, maybe, but ain't it wronger
That I should be stranded here,
While my upper lip grow longer,
Month by month, and year by year?
More verses by Joseph Furphy
- Lines For Lizer-Jane's Album.
- The Schoolhouse On The Plain
- In Memoriam
- Finis. Time.
- A Psalm Of Patience