Page:The songs of a sentimental bloke (1917).djvu/121

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THE MOOCH O' LIFE
117

An' ever it 'as taught me, day be day,
The one same lesson in the same ole way:
"Look fer yer profits in the 'earts o' friends,
Fer 'atin' never paid no dividends."


Life's wot yeh make it; an' the bloke 'oo tries
To grab the shinin' stars frum out the skies
Goes crook on life, an' calls the world a cheat,
An' tramples on the daisies at 'is feet.


But when the moon comes creepin' o'er the hill,
An' when the mopoke calls along the creek,
I takes me cup o' joy an' drinks me fill,
An' arsts meself wot better could I seek.


An' ev'ry song I 'ear the thrushes sing
That everlastin' message seems to bring;
An' ev'ry wind that whispers in the trees
Gives me the tip there ain't no joys like these:


Livin' an' lovin'; wand'rin' on yer way;
Reapin' the 'arvest uv a kind deed done;
An' watchin', in the sundown uv yer day,
Yerself again, grown nobler in yer son.