He's gone to England for a wife Among the ladies there;And yet I know a lass he deemed The rarest of the rare.He's gone to England for a wife; And rich and proud is he.But he was poor and toiled for bread When first he courted me.
He said I was the best on earth; He said I was "his life";And now he thinks of noble birth, And seeks a lady wife!He said for me alone he'd toil To win an honest fame;But now no lass on southern soil Is worthy of his name!
I think I see his lady bride, A fair and faultless face,And nothing in her heart beside The empty pride of race.And she will grace his gilded home, The wife his gold shall buy;But will she ever dream of him, Or love as well as I?
Sources, publication & text notesReference details
Canonical recordPOEM-000328
Copy-textProject Gutenberg Australia, Collected Poems of Henry Lawson (2022), anchor p79; selected digital copy-text retained exactly; wording and layout confirmed against Ironbark Resources under D-180
While The Billy BoilsSearch