Where the wandering Barwin delighteth the eye,
Befringed with the myal and golden bloom’d 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 lovely Miss 'Possum-skin having a chat
With the elegant Lady of Lord Bandicoot.
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 ruin’d poor Miss 'Possum-skin;
And Lord Bandycoot also, whilst dining that day
On a bak’d kangaroo, of the kind that is red,
At the very third bite to king Dingo did say—
Oh, 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 'Possum-skin raved in despair!
And mark the result! Royal Dingo straightway,
And his warriors, swore to avenge them in arms!
And that beautiful squatter, one beautiful day,
Was waddied to death in the bloom of his charms!