Before We Were Married

Henry Lawson, 1906

      Blacksoil plains were grey soil, grey soil in the drought.
      Fifteen years away, and five hundred miles out;
      Swag and bag and billy carried all our care
      Before we were married, and I wish that I were there.

      River banks were grassy — grassy in the bends,
      Running through the land where mateship never ends;
      We belled the lazy fishing lines and droned the time away
      Before we were married, and I wish it were to-day.

      Working down the telegraph — winters' gales and rains
      Cross the tumbled scenery of Marlborough "plains",
      Beach and bluff and cook's tent — and the cook was a "cow"
      Before we were married, but I wish that it was now.

      The rolling road to Melbourne, and grey-eyed girl in fur —
      One arm to a stanchion — and one round her;
      Seat abaft the skylight when the moon had set —
      Before she was married, and I wish it wasn't yet.