The Book of Ballads Edited by Bon Gaultier [i.e. W. E. Aytoun and Theodore Martin]. A New Edition, with Several New Ballads. Illustrated by Alfred Crowquill, Richard Doyle and John Leech |
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The Convict and the Australian Lady.
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 | The Book of Ballads |  |
79
The Convict and the Australian Lady.
Thy skin is dark as jet, ladye,
Thy cheek is sharp and high,
And there's a cruel leer, love,
Within thy rolling eye!
These tangled ebon tresses
No comb hath e'er gone through;
And thy forehead, it is furrow'd by
The elegant tattoo!
Thy cheek is sharp and high,
And there's a cruel leer, love,
Within thy rolling eye!
These tangled ebon tresses
No comb hath e'er gone through;
And thy forehead, it is furrow'd by
The elegant tattoo!
I love thee,—oh, I love thee,
Thou strangely feeding maid!
Nay, lift not thus thy boomerang,
I meant not to upbraid!
Come, let me taste those yellow lips
That ne'er were tasted yet,
Save when the shipwrecked mariner
Pass'd through them for a whet.
Thou strangely feeding maid!
Nay, lift not thus thy boomerang,
I meant not to upbraid!
Come, let me taste those yellow lips
That ne'er were tasted yet,
Save when the shipwrecked mariner
Pass'd through them for a whet.
80
Nay, squeeze me not so tightly!
For I am gaunt and thin,
There's little flesh to tempt thee
Beneath a convict's skin.
I came not to be eaten,
I sought thee, love, to woo;
Besides, bethink thee, dearest,
Thou'st dined on cockatoo!
For I am gaunt and thin,
There's little flesh to tempt thee
Beneath a convict's skin.
I came not to be eaten,
I sought thee, love, to woo;
Besides, bethink thee, dearest,
Thou'st dined on cockatoo!
Thy father is a chieftain;
Why, that's the very thing!
Within my native country
I, too have been a king.
Behold this branded letter,
Which nothing can efface!
It is the royal emblem,
The token of my race!
Why, that's the very thing!
Within my native country
I, too have been a king.
Behold this branded letter,
Which nothing can efface!
It is the royal emblem,
The token of my race!
But rebels rose against me,
And dared my power disown—
You've heard, love, of the judges?
They drove me from my throne.
And I have wander'd hither,
Across the stormy sea,
In search of glorious freedom,
In search, my sweet, of thee!
And dared my power disown—
You've heard, love, of the judges?
They drove me from my throne.
And I have wander'd hither,
Across the stormy sea,
In search of glorious freedom,
In search, my sweet, of thee!
81
The bush is now my empire,
The knife my sceptre keen;
Come with me to the desert wild,
And be my dusky queen.
I cannot give thee jewels,
I have nor sheep nor cow,
Yet there are kangaroos, love,
And colonists enow.
The knife my sceptre keen;
Come with me to the desert wild,
And be my dusky queen.
I cannot give thee jewels,
I have nor sheep nor cow,
Yet there are kangaroos, love,
And colonists enow.
We'll meet the unwary settler,
As whistling home he goes,
And I'll take tribute from him,
His money and his clothes.
Then on his bleeding carcass
Thou'lt lay thy pretty paw,
And lunch upon him, roasted,
Or, if you like it, raw!
As whistling home he goes,
And I'll take tribute from him,
His money and his clothes.
Then on his bleeding carcass
Thou'lt lay thy pretty paw,
And lunch upon him, roasted,
Or, if you like it, raw!
Then come with me, my princess,
My own Australian dear,
Within this grove of gum trees,
We'll hold our bridal cheer!
Thy heart with love is beating,
I feel it through my side:—
Hurrah, then, for the noble pair,
The Convict and his bride!
My own Australian dear,
Within this grove of gum trees,
We'll hold our bridal cheer!
Thy heart with love is beating,
I feel it through my side:—
Hurrah, then, for the noble pair,
The Convict and his bride!
| The Book of Ballads | |