An hour before the sun goes down behind the ragged boughs
I go across the little run to bring the dusty cows
And once I used to sit and rest beneath the fading dome
For there was one that I loved best who'd bring the cattle home

Our yard is fixed with double bails; round one the grass is green
The Bush is growing through the rails, the spike is rusted in;
It was from there his freckled face would turn and smile at me
For he'd milk seven in a race while I was milking three

He kissed me twice and once again, and rode across the hill
The pint-pots and the hobble-chain, I hear them jingling still
About the hut the sunlight fails, the fire shine through the cracks
I climb the broken stockyard rails and watch the bridle-tracks

And he is coming back again - he wrote from Evatt's Rock
A flood was in the Darling then and foot-rot in the flock
The sheep were falling thick and fast, a hundred miles from town
And when he reached the line at last, he trucked the remnant down

And so he'll have to stand the cost: his luck was always bad
Instead of making more, he lost the money that he had
And how he'll manage, Heaven knows (My eyes are getting dim)
He says - he says - he don't suppose I'll want to marry him.

As if I wouldn't take his hand without a golden glove
Oh Jack, you men won't understand how much a girl can love
I long to see his face once more - Jack's dog! thank God - it's Jack
(I never thought I'd faint before) he's coming up the track

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