YE WEARIE WAYFARER 



To cross in the dark, so I'll have a smoke 

 And then Til be off again. 



What's up, old horse ? Your ears you prick, 



And your eager eyeballs glisten ; 

 Tis the wild dog's note, in the tea-tree thick. 



By the river, to which you listen. 

 With head erect, and tail flung out, 



For a gallop you seem to beg. 

 But I feel the qualm of a chilling doubt 



As I glance at your fav'rite leg. 



Let the dingo rest, 'tis all for the best, 



In this world there's room enough 

 For him and you and me and the rest, 



And the country is awful rough. 

 We've had our gallop in days of yore. 



Now down the hill we must run. 

 Yet at times we long for one gallop more, 



Although it were only one. 



Did our spirits quail at a new four-rail. 

 Could a '* double" double-bank us, 



Ere nerve and sinew began to fail 

 In the consulship of Plancus ? 



35 



