BLACKSOIL PLAINS were grey soil, grey soil in the drought.
Fifteen years away, and five hundred miles out;
Swag and bag and billy carried all our care
Before we were married, and I wish that I were there.

River banks were grassy-grassy in the bends,
Running through the land where mateship never ends;
We belled the lazy fishing lines and droned the time away
Before we were married, and I wish it were to-day.

Working down the telegraph-winters- gales and rains
Cross the tumbled scenery of Marlborough -plains�,
Beach and bluff and cook-s tent-and the cook was a -cow�
Before we were married, but I wish that it was now.

The rolling road to Melbourne, and grey-eyed girl in fur-
One arm to a stanchion-and one round her;
Seat abaft the skylight when the moon had set-
Before she was married, and I wish it wasn-t yet.