She's a mouth as soft as velvet, and she plenty has of heart;
I could worship every little step she takes;
And the saddling-bell is ringing, so we're going to the start,
Certain winners, for the Matrimonial Stakes!
The Mountain Squatter
Here in my mountain home,
On rugged hills and steep,
I sit and watch you come,
O Riverina Sheep!
You come from fertile plains
Where saltbush (sometimes) grows,
And flats that (when it rains)
Will blossom like the rose.
But, when the summer sun
Gleams down like burnished brass,
You have to leave your run
And hustle off for grass.
'Tis then that -- forced to roam --
You come to where I keep,
Here in my mountain home,
A boarding-house for sheep.
Around me where I sit
The wary wombat goes --
A beast of little wit,
But what he knows, he KNOWS.
The very same remark
Applies to me also;
I don't give out a spark,
But what I know, I KNOW.
My brain perhaps would show
No convolutions deep,
But anyhow I know
The way to handle sheep.
These Riverina cracks,
They do not care to ride
The half-inch hanging tracks
Along the mountain side.
Their horses shake with fear
When loosened boulders go,
With leaps, like startled deer,
Down to the gulfs below.
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