Monday, 4 January 2016

When Mother Calls to Dinner - Uloola

We're on a farm not far from town—
There's just a dozen acres;
Our neighbours range from atheists
And infidels to Quakers;
We've got the good old pious sort
‘Long-side the hardened sinner—
But that won't spoil our appetite
When Mother calls to dinner.

When, years ago, we started first
And did the pioneering—
The fencing and the breaking-up,
The stumping and the clearing—
If stuck at some old ironbark
Which looked a likely winner,
We always got our courage up
When Mother called to dinner.

We've had some floods, when weeks of rain
Have given us a notion
We'd wake some day and find the place
Adrift towards the ocean;
And then such droughts and failing crops
As daunt the green beginner!
But still we fought and struggled on,
And Mother called to dinner.

So though the droughts may scourge the land
Or floods roar like a river,
We'll hope that better times'll come—
The bad can't last for ever!
And though the worry and the care
Are making Dad grow thinner,
There's always hope of winning yet
While Mother calls to dinner.

Uloola (pseud.) (19th century) Australia

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