I Met Her On The Lachlan Side, A Darling Girl I Thought Her, And Ere I Left I Swore I'd Win The Free-Selector'S Daughter. I Milked Her Father'S Cows A Month, I Brought The Wood And Water, I Mended All The Broken Fence, Before I Won The Daughter. I Listened To Her Father'S Yarns, I Did Just What I `Oughter', And What You'll Have To Do To Win A Free-Selector'S Daughter. I Broke My Pipe And Burnt My Twist, And Washed My Mouth With Water; I Had A Shave Before I Kissed The Free-Selector'S Daughter. Then, Rising In The Frosty Morn, I Brought The Cows For Mary, And When I'd Milked A Bucketful I Took It To The Dairy. I Poured The Milk Into The Dish While Mary Held The Strainer, I Summoned Heart To Speak My Wish, And, Oh! Her Blush Grew Plainer. I Told Her I Must Leave The Place, I Said That I Would Miss Her; At First She Turned Away Her Face, And Then She Let Me Kiss Her. I Put The Bucket On The Ground, And In My Arms I Caught Her: I'd Give The World To Hold Again That Free-Selector'S Daughter!