As I rode in to Burrumbeet, <br />I met a man with funny feet; <br />And, when I paused to ask him why <br />His feet were strange, he rolled his eye <br />And said the rain would spoil the wheat; <br />So I rode on to Burrumbeet. <br /> <br />As I rode in to Beetaloo, <br />I met a man whose nose was blue; <br />And when I asked him how he got <br />A nose like that, he answered, "What <br />Do bullocks mean when they say 'Moo'?" <br />So I rode on to Beetaloo. <br /> <br />As I rode in to Ballarat, <br />I met a man who wore no hat; <br />And, when I said he might take cold, <br />He cried, "The hills are quite as old <br />As yonder plains, but not so flat." <br />So I rode on to Ballarat. <br /> <br />As I rode in to Gundagai, <br />I met a man and passed him by <br />Without a nod, without a word. <br />He turned, and said he'd never heard <br />Or seen a man so wise as I. <br />But I rode on to Gundagai. <br /> <br />As I rode homeward, full of doubt, <br />I met a stranger riding out: <br />A foolish man he seemed to me; <br />But, "Nay, I am yourself," said he, <br />"Just as you were when you rode out." <br />So I rode homeward, free of doubt.<br /><br />Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-traveller-3/
