Fix your mind on Tuesday, lad,
There's a whole year's work to do.
Although today your mind's on play,
'Twill soon be up to you.
For holidays must have an end,
So, fix your mind on Tuesday, friend.
I have to sit and think of work,
Why should you have the fun?
So fix your mind on Tuesday's grind
And jobs that must be done.
They're piling up while you're away,
Upon this foolish holiday.
Why should I have to sit and toil
And know not sport nor ease,
And scribble rhymes to suit the times --
Or not -- just as you please.
While you amid the wind-blown trees
Know all the joy of careless ease?
Maybe you're in the far blue hills
Or sporting by the sea;
But all your joy and gladness, boy,
Mean not a thing to me.
For here with work I'm sorely vexed,
So fix your mind on Tuesday next.
The white gulls wheel above the sea;
The wavelets lap the shore.
But I don't care, since I'm not there
The whole thing is a bore.
While I, in pain, am scrawling this
Why should you know untarnished bliss?
So fix your mind on Tuesday, lad,
It's not so far away.
The days are short when spent in sport,
Then farewell holiday.
And, oh, what long days when it's done.
Tuesday is near. So cheer up, son!
First published in The Herald, 29 December 1927
Author reference sites: C.J. Dennis, Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography, Australian Poetry Library
See also.
