Leader, poet, singer, artist, who have struggled long and won,Though the climbing is behind you, now the battle has begun,Shut your ears unto the empty parrot phrases of the town,Shun the hand-grips of your rivals, they can only drag you down.
See the bush or quiet chamber, work--for you have work to do,Though the city shall be lighted and the table spread for you--Work through ease and pleasure call you, work when you have care to drown,Shun the wine-cup like a serpent, it can only drag you down.
And the star eyes and the red lips, luring ever to a wreck,And the beauty of the white arms clinging closely round your neck!Golden head thrown back and white arms clinging closer when you frown,Tear them from your neck if need be--they can only drag you down.
Sources, publication & text notesReference details
Canonical recordPOEM-000721
Copy-textProject Gutenberg Australia, Collected Poems of Henry Lawson (2022), anchor p308; selected digital copy-text retained exactly; wording and layout confirmed against Ironbark Resources under D-180
While The Billy BoilsSearch