The sheep are yarded, an’ I sit

 

Beside the fire an’ poke at it.

 

Far from the booze, an’ clash o’ men,

 

Glad, I’m glad I’m back again

 

On the station, wi’ me traps

 

An’ fencin’ wire and tanks and taps.

 

Back to salt-bush plains, an’ flocks,

 

An’ old bark hut be th’ apple-box.

 

I turn the slipjack, make the tea,

 

All’s as still as still can be –

 

An’ the old black billy winks at me.


Source:

Murdoch, W. (1924). A Book of Australian Verse.  England: Oxford University Press.