Works in the Herald 1933
MY VENTURE IN WOOL
I wish I hadn't sold my sheep.
Now wool's gone up
I sit here, sipping -- as I weep --
A bitter cup.
In '31, when none sought wool,
I bought them cheap;
And now I feel I was a fool
To sell my sheep.
I used to watch them graze about
On my estate.
I'd made the fences safe and stout
And barred the gate.
And often, when the skies were blue
And kind the sun,
I used to count them two by two
And one by one.
I'd count them over; then I'd take
To dreaming there
Of what vast fortunes men might make
If, by some rare
Good chance, wool should go up. Alas!
Oh, smiling skies!
Oh, patient sheep and gleaming grass!
Wool wouldn't rise.
A neighbour, counting them one day,
Asked would I sell.
I haggled in my poor, weak way
Then said, "Aw, well,
I might." Wool still, was very cheap.
So, nothing loth --
Alas my profitable sheep! --
I sold them -- both.
Herald, 21 September 1933
The Courier-Mail, 7 October 1933, p18