While The Billy BoilsSearchI'll tell you what you wanderers, who drift from town to town;Don't look into a good girl's eyes, until you've settled down.It's hard to go away alone and leave old chums behind--It's hard to travel steerage when your tastes are more refined--To reach a place when times are bad, and to be standing there,No money in your pocket nor a decent rag to wear.But be forced from that fond clasp, from that last clinging kiss--By poverty! There is on earth no harder thing than this.
Poem
I'll Tell You What, You Wanderers
by Henry Lawson · 1894
Sources, publication & text notesReference details
Canonical recordPOEM-000335
Copy-textProject Gutenberg Australia, Collected Poems of Henry Lawson (2022), anchor p84; selected digital copy-text retained exactly; wording and layout confirmed against Ironbark Resources under D-180
Source recordSRC-000066
Rights determinationRGT-000518
Text statusCANONICAL TEXT READY
TranscriptionDIPLOMATIC_D208_D180
While The Billy Boils · Public-domain text · www.whilethebillyboils.com.au/poems/ill-tell-you-what-you-wanderers