While The Billy BoilsSearchHow sweet is the sound of the beautiful rain,As it falls o’er the face of the earth,Bringing joy and repose to our dwellings again,In the midst of our family dearth !No cry is so full and so watered with tearsAs the one that is heard with a sigh,For water at home, from the depth of our fears ;For from want of it many may die.
Oh ! beautiful sound, truly welcome to allIs the shower on the zinc or the pane ;It speaks to our hearts with a wonderful callThat our tanks may be ready again.No matter the mud or the clay at thy door,For thine arms may soon sweep all away ;But open thy heart with thy gratitude moreFor the rain that is falling to-day.
Now hie for the plough, and the sturdy tried team,That the land may be ready for seed ;Your idleness now would ingratitude seem,For your stock must have winter’s green feed.The loss during drought can be met with a laugh,As you look on green paddocks around.So hie for the plough, as the water you quaff :For the fodder, sow seed in the ground.
Moss Vale.