When Stock Go By

Ah me! how clearly they come back–
 * Those golden days of long ago,

When down the droughty Bogan track
 * Tom came with stock from Ivanhoe!

The cattle passed our homestead gate,
 * Beside our well I watched them pass!

While Dad was in a fearful state
 * About his water and his grass.

Tom rode a bonny dark-bay nag;
 * He wore a battered cabbage-tree;

And as I filled our water-bag
 * He came and asked a drink from me.

Tom said that drink was just like wine;
 * He said my eyes were soft and brown;

He said there were no eyes like mine
 * From Dandaloo to Sydney town.

I watched him with a trembling lip,
 * Yet little thought I then that he

Who asked a drink from me that trip
 * Would next trip ask my Dad for me!

Tom's droving days long since are done;
 * The wet tear oft has dimmed my eye;

But days when I was wooed and won
 * Come back to me ... when stock go by!