.I learned this from Mr. and Mrs. Ray Wales, of Australia. He said a reedy lagoon would be on a bend in a river, where it shoals off into marshes. This old character has holed up there for the winter, and now he's thinking about his friends; a little Spring-lonely, perhaps, but not really sad.
The sweet scented wattle sheds perfume around,
Delighting the bird and the bee ,
While I tie and take rest in me fern-covered nest
In the shade of the currajong tree
High up in the air I can hear the refrain
Of a butcherbird* piping his tune,
For the Spring in her glory has come back again
To the banks of the Reedy Lagoon.
I've carried me bluey for many a mile,
Me boots are worn out at the toes,
And I'm dressing this season in different style
Than what I did last year, God knows.
My cooking u ensils, I'm sorry to say,
Consist of a knife and a spoon,
And I've dry bread and tea in a battered Jack Shea
By the banks of the Reedy Lagoon.
Oh, where is young Frankie? (And how he could ride!)
And Johnny, the light-hearted boy ?
They tell me that lately he's taken a bride,
A benedict's life to enjoy.
And Mac, the big Scotsman; I once heard him say
He'd wrestled the famous Muldoon . . .
But they're all gone away and it's lonely, today,
By the banks of the Reedy Lagoon.
And where is the lady I oftened caressed,
The girl with the sad, dreamy eyes?
She pillows her head on another man's breast
Who tells her the very same lies.
My bed she would hardly be willing to share
Where I camp by the light of the moon,
But it's little I care, for I'd never keep 'square'
By the banks of the Reedy Lagoon.
* Capt. Kendall Morse tells me that this is our shrike.