The Professional Wanderer by Henry Lawson — Read

When you've knocked about the country -- been away from home for years; / When the past, by distance softened, nearly fills your eyes with tears -- / You are haunted oft, wherever or however you may roam, / By a fancy that you ought to go and see the folks at home. / You forget the family quarrels -- little things that used to jar -- / And you think of how they'll worry -- how they wonder where you are; / You will think you served them badly, and your own part you'll condemn, / And it strikes you that you'll surely be a novelty to them, / For your voice has somewhat altered, and your face has somewhat changed -- / And your views of men and matters over wider fields have ranged. / Then it's time to save your money, or to watch it (how it goes! ); / Then it's time to get a ‘Gladstone' and a decent suit of clothes; / Then it's time to practise daily with a hair-brush and a comb, / Till you drop in unexpected on the folks and friends at home.

When you've been at home for some time, and the novelty's worn off, / And old chums no longer court you, and your friends begin to scoff; / When ‘the girls' no longer kiss you, crying ‘Jack! how you have changed! ' / When you're stale to your relations, and their manner seems estranged; / When the old domestic quarrels, round the table thrice a day, / Make it too much like the old times -- make you wish you'd stayed away, / When, in short, you've spent your money in the fulness of your heart, / And your clothes are getting shabby. Then it's high time to depart.