by Charles Harpur
Where the wandering Barwin delighteth the eye,
Befringed with the myall and golden-bloomed gorse,
Oh a beautiful Squatter came galloping by,
With a beard on his chin like the tail of his horse!
And his locks trained all round to so equal a pitch,
That his mother herself, it may truly be said,
Had been puzzled in no small degree to find which
Was the front, or the back, or the sides of his head.
Beside a small fire 'neath a fair-spreading tree,
(A cedar I think -- but perhaps 'twas a gum)
What vision of Love did that Squatter now see,
In the midst of a catch so to render him dumb?
Why, all on the delicate herbage asquat,
And smiling to see him so flustered and mute,
'Twas the charming Miss Possumkin having a chat
With the elegant Lady of Lord Bandycoot.
The Squatter dismounted -- what else could he do?
And meaning her tender affections to win,
'Gan talking of dampers and blankets quite new
With a warmth that soon ruined poor Miss Possumskin!
And Lord Bandycoot also, while dining that day
On a baked kangaroo of the kind that is red,
At the very third bite to King Dingo did say --
O, how heavy I feel all at once in the head!
But alas for the Belles of the Barwin! the Youth
Galloped home, to forget all his promises fair!
Whereupon lady Bandicoot told the whole truth
To her Lord, and Miss Possumskin raved in despair!
And mark the result! royal Dingo straightway,
And his Warriors, swore to avenge them in arms:
And that beautiful Squatter on beautiful day,
Was waddied to death in the bloom of his charms.
Last updated January 14, 2019