YE WEARIE WAYFARER 



Now tell me for once, old horse of mine, 



Grazing round me loose and free, 

 Does your ancient equine heart repine 



For a burst in such companie, 

 Where " the Powers that be " in the front rank 

 ride, 



To hold your own with the throng, 

 Or to plunge at '' Faugh-a-Ballagh's" side 



In the rapids of Dandenong? 



Don't tread on my toes, you're no foolish 

 weight, 



So I found to my cost, as under 

 Your carcase 1 lay, when you rose too late. 



Yet I blame you not for the blunder. 

 What ! sulky old man, your under lip falls ! 



You think I, too, ready to rail am 

 At your kinship remote to that duffer at walls. 



The talkative roadster of Balaam. 



