... > "If we don't get three inches, man, > > Or four to break this drought, > > We'll all be rooned," said Hanrahan, > > "Before the year is out." > > In God's good time down came the rain; > > And all the afternoon > > On iron roof and window-pane > > It drummed a homely tune. > > And through the night it pattered still, > > And lightsome, gladsome elves > > On dripping spout and window-sill > > Kept talking to themselves. > > It pelted, pelted all day long, > > A-singing at its work, > > Till every heart took up the song > > Way out to Back-o'Bourke. > > And every creek a banker ran, > > And dams filled overtop; > > "We'll all be rooned," said Hanrahan, > >"If this rain doesn't stop."