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Poem by Andrew Barton Paterson


Hard Luck


I left the course, and by my side 
There walked a ruined tout -- 
A hungry creature, evil-eyed, 
Who poured this story out. 
”You see,” he said, ”there came a swell 
To Kensington today, 
And, if I picked the winners well, 
A crown at least he’s pay. 

”I picked three winners straight, I did; 
I filled his purse with pelf, 
And then he gave me half-a-quid 
To back one for myself. 

”A half-a-quid to me he cast -- 
I wanted it indeed; 
So help me Bob, for two days past 
I haven’t had a feed. 

”But still I thought my luck was in, 
I couldn’t go astray -- 
I put it all on Little Min, 
And lost it straightaway. 

”I haven’t got a bite or bed, 
I’m absolutely stuck; 
So keep this lesson in your head: 
Don’t over-trust your luck!” 

The folks went homeward, near and far, 
The tout, oh! where is he? 
Ask where the empty boilers are 
Beside the Circular Quay.



Andrew Barton Paterson


Andrew Barton Paterson's other poems:
  1. A Grain of Desert Sand
  2. That Half-Crown Sweep
  3. Under the Shadow of Kiley’s Hill
  4. Saltbush Bill, J.P.
  5. The Rhyme of the O’Sullivan


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Edgar Guest Hard Luck ("Ain’t no use as I can see")

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