The Free Selector's Daughter

I met her on the Lachlan Side,
A darling girl I thought her,
And ere I left I swore I'd win
The 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 win
A free-selector's daughter.

I broke my pipe and burnt my twist,
And washed my mouth with water;
I had a shave before I kissed
The free-selector's daughter.

Then, rising in the frosty morn,
I brought the cows for Mary,
And when I'd milked a bucketful
I took it to the dairy.

I poured the milk into the dish
While 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 again
That free-selector's daughter!

Henry Lawson

Henry Lawson was an Australian writer and poet. Along with Banjo Paterson, he is among the best-known Australian poets and fiction writers of the colonial period and is often called Australia's 'greatest short story writer'. His works frequently document the lives and struggles of rural and outback Australians. Lawson's own life was marked by hardship and struggles including impaired hearing and financial difficulties, which influenced his realist depictions of Australian life. Some of his notable works include 'While the Billy Boils' and 'In the Days When the World was Wide.'

Henry Lawson

The 'Soldier Birds'

Henry Lawson, Simple Poetry

The Afterglow

Henry Lawson, Simple Poetry

A Dan Yell

Henry Lawson, Simple Poetry

The Cliffs

Henry Lawson, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Squatters Daughter

Out in the west, where runs are wide,
And days than ours are hotter,
Not very far from Lachlan Side
There dwelt a wealthy squatter.

Of old opinions he was full,
An Englishman, his sire,
Was hated long where peasants pull
Their forelocks to the squire.

He loved the good old British laws,
And Royaltys regalia,
And oft was heard to growl because
They wouldnt fit Australia.

This squatter had a lovely child,
An angel bright we thought her;
And all the stockmen rude and wild
Adored the squatters daughter.

But on a bright eventful morn,
A swell of northern nation,
A lordling, brought his languid yawn
And eyeglass to the station.

He coveted the squatters wealth;
He saw the squatters daughter:
And, what i...

Henry Lawson

The Shakedown On The Floor

Set me back for twenty summers,
For Im tired of cities now,
Set my feet in red-soil furrows
And my hands upon the plough,
With the two Black Brothers trudging
On the home stretch through the loam,
While, along the grassy siding,
Come the cattle grazing home.

And I finish ploughing early,
And I hurry home to tea,
Theres my black suit on the stretcher,
And a clean white shirt for me.
Theres a dance at Rocky Rises,
And, when all the fun is oer,
For a certain favoured party
Theres a shake-down on the floor.

You remember Mary Carey,
Bushmens favourite at the Rise?
With her sweet small freckled features,
Red-gold hair, and kind grey eyes;
Sister, daughter, to her mother,
Mother, sister, to the rest,
And of all my fri...

Henry Lawson

Lachlan Side

Region of damper and junk and tea,
Region of pastures wide!
The fairest spots in the world to me
Are out on the Lachlan Side.

CHORUS:
        Im off to the Lachlan Side,
                Where the bright lagoons are wide;
                I long for river and grass and tree,
                And someone dearer than all to me,
                Far out on the Lachlan Side.

My heart was hardened against advice
And reason I would not see,
For by the ocean a paradise
The city appeared to me.

CHORUS:
                Im off to the Lachlan Side, etc.

Not I for a bumpkins fate, I cried,
Ill not be a country clown!
A lifes too slow on the Lachlan Side;
Ill go to the shining town!

CHORUS:
        ...

Henry Lawson

The Drover's Sweetheart

An hour before the sun goes down
Behind the ragged boughs,
I go across the little run
And bring the dusty cows;
And once I used to sit and rest
Beneath the fading dome,
For there was one that I loved best
Who'd bring the cattle home.

Our yard is fixed with double bails,
Round one the grass is green,
The bush is growing through the rails,
The spike is rusted in;
And 'twas from there his freckled face
Would turn and smile at me
He'd milk a dozen in the race
While I was milking three.

I milk eleven cows myself
Where once I milked but four;
I set the dishes on the shelf
And close the dairy door;
And when the glaring sunlight fails
And the fire shines through the cracks,
I climb the broken stockyard rails
And watch the...

Henry Lawson

Trouble On The Selection

You lazy boy, youre here at last,
You must be wooden-legged;
Now, are you sure the gate is fast
And all the sliprails pegged
And all the milkers at the yard,
The calves all in the pen?
We dont want Poleys calf to suck
His mother dry again.

And did you mend the broken rail
And make it firm and neat?
I spose you want that brindle steer
All night among the wheat.
And if he finds the lucerne patch,
Hell stuff his belly full;
Hell eat till he gets blown on that
And busts like Ryans bull.

Old Spot is lost? Youll drive me mad,
You will, upon my soul!
She might be in the boggy swamps
Or down a diggers hole.
You neednt talk, you never looked
Youd find her if youd choose,
Instead of poking possum logs
And hun...

Henry Lawson

The Peace Maker

It has a point of neither sex
But comes in guise of both,
And, doubly dangerous complex,
It is a thing to loathe,
A lady with her sweet, sad smile,
A gentleman on oath.

Strip off the mother-veil, and fur!
And signs of quiet taste.
The dead childs locket take from her
(The dead mans gift in haste)
And wash from every evil line
The layers of filling paste!

From saddened eyes the hells own glare!
From sweet mouth blasphemy!
Wrench out the gold-filled false teeth there
That twice mock honesty,
And leave the evil face awry
For married folk to see.

For foolish girl wives in despair,
For mens and childrens sakes,
Let loose the glossed and padded hair
To writhe like scorching snakes!
And strip the barren bod...

Henry Lawson