SO at last a toll they-ll levy
For the passing fool who sings-
Take the harp grown dull and heavy
(With the dried blood on the strings)
Let us sing, and sing right gaily,
For the wreath is on our brow-
Are you hearin-, Victor Daley?
We are fashionable now!

Once the greatest earl could flout us,
And the meanest scribe could sneer-
Nought too bad to say about us,
Nought too hard for us to hear.
Slaves to journal-owning Neroes,
And we died-no matter how-
We-re sweet singers now and heroes,
We are fashionable now.

Once we suffered all save gaol, if
We-d no rich admirers near;
And our sole guest was the bailiff
And our only comfort beer.
Now we-ll dine with toffs and -ladies�,
Who shall clasp our hands and bow.
Let the pale muse go to Hades!
We are fashionable now.

Once we had to be contented
With the -Palace of the Mind�,
While our coats were washed and mended,
And our pants were patched behind;
Now by goose-knights we are measured,
While the lordly tailors bow;
And our worn-out pants are treasured-
We are fashionable now!

Once, when stony-broke and mournful,
We put our petition clear,
Then our country, cold and scornful,
Answered, -Go and get a beer!�
And it threw the tray bit at us
Just to stop our -silly row�,
Now it-s champagne spreads and-satis!
We are fashionable now.

Once our grandest lines were drivel,
And our wisest words were rot,
All our teachings false and evil,
To be sneered at and forgot;
Now our silliest clack delights -em,
Doggerel their feelings plow,
And our shallow bluff affrights -em-
We are fashionable now!

-I adore the Swagman-Drover-
-When the World was Round!--But ah!
-While the Billy-s Boiling Over-
Is too awfully hurrah!�
Thus the maiden trills and gushes
While her johnnie knots his brow,
And the fair young maiden blushes-
We are fashionable now!

-I like your book, Mr Lawson,
-Clancy of the Overflow-,
Better far than Mr Banjo-s-
-When Your Pants Begin to Go-.�
No! I am no longer snarling,
Long ago we had our row-
Don-t be angry, Banjo, darling,
Though I-m fashionable now.

I am feeling young and restive-
Skittish more than I can tell,
Skipping with a skip that-s festive,
Singing with a gladsome yell.
I will let my hair grow longer,
Storm-tossed from my stormy brow,
I am going strong and stronger-
For I-m fashionable now.

We shall write lines to their poodles-
Darlings of Society-
Praise the blatant cad who boodles,
Write odes to the Divorcee.
Let, at last Australia know its
Brilliant circles anyhow,
We-re the Doo-dah, Doo-dah! Poets-
We are fashionable now.