While The Billy BoilsSearchI met her on the Lachlan Side—A darling girl I thought her,And ere I left I swore I'd winThe free-selector's daughter.
I milked her father's cows a month,I brought the wood and water,I mended all the broken fence,Before I won the daughter.
I listened to her father's yarns,I did just what I 'oughter',And what you'll have to do to winA free-selector's daughter.
I broke my pipe and burnt my twist,And washed my mouth with water;I had a shave before I kissedThe free-selector's daughter.
Then, rising in the frosty morn,I brought the cows for Mary,And when I'd milked a bucketfulI took it to the dairy.
I poured the milk into the dishWhile Mary held the strainer,I summoned heart to speak my wish,And, oh! her blush grew plainer.
I told her I must leave the place,I said that I would miss her;At first she turned away her face,And then she let me kiss her.
I put the bucket on the ground,And in my arms I caught her:I'd give the world to hold againThat free-selector's daughter!