I listened to her father's yarns, I did just what I `oughter', And what you'll have to do to win A free-selector's daughter.
I broke my pipe and burnt my twist, And washed my mouth with water; I had a shave before I kissed The free-selector's daughter.
Then, rising in the frosty morn, I brought the cows for Mary, And when I'd milked a bucketful I took it to the dairy.
I poured the milk into the dish While Mary held the strainer, I summoned heart to speak my wish, And, oh! her blush grew plainer.
I told her I must leave the place, I said that I would miss her; At first she turned away her face, And then she let me kiss her.
I put the bucket on the ground, And in my arms I caught her: I'd give the world to hold again That free-selector's daughter!
When the heavy sand is yielding backward from your blistered feet, And across the distant timber you can SEE the flowing heat; When your head is hot and aching, and the shadeless plain is wide, And it's fifteen miles to water in the scrub the other side -- Don't give up, don't be down-hearted, to a man's strong heart be true! Take the air in through your nostrils, set your lips and see it through -- For it can't go on for ever, and -- `I'll have my day!' says you.
When you're camping in the mulga, and the rain is falling slow, While you nurse your rheumatism 'neath a patch of calico; Short of tucker or tobacco, short of sugar or of tea, And the scrubs are dark and dismal, and the plains are like a sea; Don't give up and be down-hearted -- to the soul of man be true! Grin! if you've a mate to grin for, grin and jest and don't look blue; For it can't go on for ever, and -- `I'll rise some day,' says you.