BLACKSOIL PLAINS were grey soil, grey soil in the drought. br Fifteen years away, and five hundred miles out; br Swag and bag and billy carried all our care br Before we were married, and I wish that I were there. br br River banks were grassy—grassy in the bends, br Running through the land where mateship never ends; br We belled the lazy fishing lines and droned the time away br Before we were married, and I wish it were to-day. br br Working down the telegraph—winters’ gales and rains br Cross the tumbled scenery of Marlborough “plains”, br Beach and bluff and cook’s tent—and the cook was a “cow” br Before we were married, but I wish that it was now. br br The rolling road to Melbourne, and grey-eyed girl in fur— br One arm to a stanchion—and one round her; br Seat abaft the skylight when the moon had set— br Before she was married, and I wish it wasn’t yet.