Page:The moods of Ginger Mick.djvu/96

 88 The gilt is on the wattle, Mick, young leaves is on the trees, An' the bush birds in the gullies swap the ole sweet melerdies, There's a good, green land awaitin' you when you come 'ome again To swing a pick at Ballarat or ride Yarrowie Plain. The streets is gay wiv dafferdils—but—haggard in the sun, A wounded soljer passes; an' we know ole days is done. Fer somew'ere down inside us, lad, is somethin' you put there The day yeh swung a dirty left, fer us, at Sari Bair.