The Lack

'This is the life!' said Dusty Dan
'This is the life to hand a man!
My happy way is strewn with flowers;
But why waste money on the showers?

'The hard cash wasted on that bath
Might yet make pleasanter my path,
If wisely spent on bottled beer
And motor cars to fetch us here!'

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Drovers

Out across the spinifex, out across the sand,
Out across the saltbush to Never Never land
That's the way the drovers go, jogging down the track -
That's the way the drovers go. But how do they come back?
Back across the saltbush from Never Never land.
Back across the spinifex, back across the sand.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Pieman

I'd like to be a pieman, and ring a little bell,
Calling out, 'Hot pies! Hot pies to sell!'
Apple-pies and Meat-pies, Cherry-pies as well,
Lots and lots and lots of pies - more than you can tell.
Big, rich Pork-pies! Oh, the lovely smell!
But I wouldn't be a pieman if ...
I wasn't very well.
Would you?

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Riding Song

Flippity-flop! Flippity-flop!
Here comes the butcher to bring us a chop
Cantering, cantering down the wide street
On his little bay mare with the funny white feet;
Cantering, cantering out to the farm,
Stripes on his apron and basket on arm.
Run to the window and tell him to stop
Flippity-flop! Flippity-flop!

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Postman

I'd like to be a postman, and walk along the street,
Calling out, 'Good Morning, Sir,' to gentlemen I meet,
Ringing every door-bell all along my beat,
In my cap and uniform so very nice and neat.
Perhaps I'd have a parasol in case of rain or heat;
But I wouldn't be a postman if ...
The walking hurt my feet.
Would you?

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Inured

Young man about to marry,
Don't hesitate, I pray;
No need for you to tarry
If you can only stay.

So let it be your prayer
That you can see it out;
For, if you are a stayer
You'll win to bliss, no doubt.

Tho' she may nag and scold you,
And drive you mad at first,
Let this bright thought uphold you;
The first twelve years are worst.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Barber

I'd like to be a barber, and learn to shave and clip,
Calling out, 'Next please! and pocketing my tip.'
All day I'd hear my scissors going, 'Snip, Snip, Snip;'
I'd lather people's faces, and their noses I would grip
While I shaved most carefully along the upper lip.
But I wouldn't be a barber if ...
The razor was to slip.
Would you?

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Baker

I'd like to be a baker, and come when morning breaks,
Calling out, 'Beeay-ko!' (that's the sound he makes)
Riding in a rattle-cart that jogs and jolts and shakes,
Selling all the sweetest things a baker ever bakes;
Currant-buns and brandy-snaps, pastry all in flakes;
But I wouldn't be a baker if ...
I couldn't eat the cakes.
Would you?

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Porter

I'd like to be a porter, and always on the run,
Calling out, 'Stand aside!' and asking leave of none.
Shoving trucks on people's toes, and having splendid fun,
Slamming all the carriage doors and locking every one
And, when they asked to be let in, I'd say, 'It can't be done.'
But I wouldn't be a porter if ...
The luggage weighed a ton.
Would you?

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Sailor

I'd like to be a sailor - a sailor bold and bluff
Calling out, 'Ship ahoy!' in manly tones and gruff.
I'd learn to box the compass, and to reef and tack and luff;
I'd sniff and snifff the briny breeze and never get enough.
Perhaps I'd chew tobacco, or an old black pipe I'd puff,
But I wouldn't be a sailor if ...
The sea was very rough.
Would you?

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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