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 grassygrassy 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 telegraphwinters gales and rains
Cross the tumbled scenery of Marlborough plains,
Beach and bluff and cooks tentand 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 stanchionand one round her;
Seat abaft the skylight when the moon had set
Before she was married, and I wish it wasnt yet.
