A Dan Yell

Henry Lawson, 1907

      I wish I'd never gone to board
      In that house where I met
      The touring lady from abroad,
      Who mocks my nightmares yet.
      I wish — I wish that she had saved
      Her news of what she'd seen —
      That Dan O'Connor is clean shaved
      And parts his hair between.

      The ladies down at Manly now —
      And widows understood —
      No more deplore their marriage vow
      Or hopeless widowhood.
      For Dan O'Connor is the same
      As though he'd never been,
      Since Daniel shaved that shave of shame,
      And combed his hair between.

      No more, Oh Bards, in Danyel tones
      He'll voice our several fames,
      And nevermore he'll mix our bones
      As once he mixed our names.
      Let Southern minstrels dree their weird
      And lay their sad harps down,
      For Dan O'Connor's shorn of beard
      And cracked across the crown.

      The lobby and refreshment room
      Are shorn of half their larks,
      A newer ghost now haunts the gloom
      That knew the ghost of Parkes:
      The brightest joke Australia had
      Is but a hopeless grunt —
      It went for ever mad and bad
      When Daniel shaved his front.

      The fair Spotswhoshky weeps indeed —
      Frogsleggi and Bung Lung —
      With none to greet and none to speed
      Them in their native tongue!
      By Sucklar Key nor Golden Gate
      No Dan is ever seen
      Since Dan O'Connor wiped his "slate"
      And notched his top between.

      But — Dan O'Connor — (Lord knows best
      The thing might be a sell) —
      You surely will forgive a jest
      From one who wished you well —
      When we've forgot the face we feared And
      Time has deadened pain,
      Oh! Dan O'Connor, grow your beard,
      And come to us again.