But rebels rose against me,
And dared my power disown—
You've heard, love, of the judges?
They drove me from my throne.
And I have wandered hither,
Across the stormy sea,
In search of glorious freedom,—
In search, my sweet, of thee!
The bush is now my empire,
The knife my sceptre keen;
Come with me to the desert wild,
And be my dusky queen.
I cannot give thee jewels,
I have nor sheep nor cow,
Yet there are kangaroos, love,
And colonists enow.
We'll meet the unwary settler,
As whistling home he goes,
And I'll take tribute from him,
His money and his clothes.
Then on his bleeding carcass
Thou'lt lay thy pretty paw,
And lunch upon him roasted,
Or, if you like it, raw!
Then come with me, my princess,
My own Australian dear,
Within this grove of gum-trees
We'll hold our bridal cheer!
Thy heart with love is heating,
I feel it through my side:—
Hurrah, then, for the noble pair,
The Convict and his Bride!