"Harry! what that yerself, back to old Vic., man, 
   Down from the Never Land? Now, what's yer game? 
Ugly as ever. Not dropped the old trick, man? 
  Welly, what'll yer take with me? Give it a name. 


"Here long? Well, rather, lad; five years and over, 
   Settled for good, and supportin' a wife. 
Slipped from the saddle, an' livin' in clover, 
   Swore off a whole heap, an' I've slung the old life. 


"What's come of Taffy, an' Brum, an' the rest of 'em? 
   How long since you broke with the Poverty push?" 
"Well, Bill, you're on top, you've the best of the best of 'em. 
   Poor Brum is a dummy, Taff died in the bush; 


"Bob's cookin' for Chows on an absentee's station, 
   Sam's toutin' for spielers, Pete's lumbered for life; 
I'm married an' trampin' half over creation, 
   Trackin' a woman, my runaway wife. 


"Left me six years ago - sloped! I was shearin' 
   Away on the Thomson. She skipped 'thout a word; 
Last year was seen by a Barcoo man, steerin' 
   Round about here, an' that's all that I've heard. 


"Heard of her, know her, Bill - tallish and clever, 
   Blue eyes, an' dark hair, an' she's branded here, so. 
Not the woman to liquor, or go on the never, 
   But skittish an' queer in her tantrums, yer know. 


"This is her picture, Bill; just have a look at her. 
   That like any female you chance to have seen? 
Hallo! here, hold up! Say, man, what's the matter? 
   YOUR WIFE! By the Lord, Morton, what do you mean?"

"Edward Dyson"
The Bulletin, 29 October 1892, p24

Note:
This poem was published in slightly different form in Dyson's poetry collection Rhymes From the Mines and Other Lines.