Australians, a stern appeal,
A cry of anguish thrown to you:
To native weaknesses be leal,
Assuming you must have a few.
In any circumstance at all,
When trouble takes you by the throat,
Don't, don't remark with basal drawl:
"It gets my goat!"
And never wail in accents dree:
"Oh, gee!"
In asking questions at a pinch
Don't say: "You get me?" and so on,
Nor speak of something as a "cinch,"
Nor swear "By Hee!" nor say "Dog-gone!"
If, meaning woman, you say "dame,"
I'll hate you all till kingdom come,
To say "some girl's" a thing of shame,
And "on the bum"
Is worse; while loathly is the cry
"Wise guy!"
You say "Poor simp" more than enough;
Too often murmur "He's a mutt,"
And talk of "jays" and "bug-house stuff,"
And dub a lunatic a "nut."
Don't speak of "boobs" -- it makes you one --
Nor "Can that stuff!" with foolish grins.
Sin if you must, but don't my son,
Sin others' sins.
Let all the vices be home-grown --
Your own.
First published in The Bulletin, 11 September 1919
