Don't you worry, Lady Ethel, don't you worry — not at all,
As the breezy hours blow by,
For a dapper little gunner who was pluckiest of all
(As the breezy hours blow by);
The fairest girls in Flanders may kiss him on the train,
But in your home in Darling Point you'll find my meaning plain —
The Mosman lights and Harbour lights shall beckon him again
As the years go rolling by.

Don't you worry, Sarah Johnson, don't you worry — not at all,
As the lurid days go by;
Don't you worry for your Billo who was " Stousher " to them all
(As the gory days go by);
The bar at Ryan's corner, the old " school " at Balmain,
The thoughts about his Old 'Uns in their home in Red Rock Lane,
And how you used to stick to him shall bring him back again
As the years go rolling by.

Don't you worry, Mary Kelly, don't you worry — not at all,
As the sultry days drag by,
For the careless, reckless rider who could climb the mountain wall
(As the drowsy days droop by).
Don't worry when the gullies and hills are dark with rain;
The thoughts of where he kissed you first for ever shall remain.
The she-oaks in the Upper Bend shall sigh him back again
As the years go rolling by.

Don't you worry, Ruth McLaughlan, don't you worry — not at all,
As the lazy days lag by;
Don't you worry for the plainsman who was through and knew it all,
(As the drowsy days dozed by);
In summer, or in winter, you shall not wait in vain;
The fogs that sweep like mighty hosts across the Red Soil Plain,
The swishing of the red duststorm shall call him back again
As the years go rolling by.

Don't you worry, Annie Turner, don't you worry — not at all,
As the blazing days rush by;
Don't you worry for the shearer, who was bronzed and straight and tall,
While the sandstorm hides the sky.
The grand old Darling Timber, the camps of mateship's reign,
Where Federation had its birth, and Bourke's great soul was slain —
The memories of West-o'-Bourke shall call him back again
As the years go rolling by.

Don't you worry, wide Australia, don't you worry — not at all,
As the breathing hours swell by,
From the sea-cliff and the sea-beach and the mighty mountain wall
To " Out where the Dead Men Lie! "
To plains that came by Conquest, and towns that came by Chance,
From fighting for the Homeland and the sake of Old Romance —
They'll come to make their land a land worth dying for, like France,
As the years go rolling by.