They sing of the grandeur of cliffs inland, But the cliffs of the ocean are truly grand; And I long to wander and dream and doubt Where the cliffs by the ocean run out and out. ...
From Woolwich and Brentford and Stamford Hill, from Richmond into the Strand, Oh, the Cockney soul is a silent soul, as it is in every land! But out on the sand with a broken band it's sarcasm spurs them through;...
Once more I write a line to you, While darker shadows fall; Dear friends of mine who have been true, And steadfast through it all. If I have written bitter rhymes, With many lines that halt,...
They sunk a post into the ground Where their leaders bade them stop; It was a man's height, and they spiked A crosspiece to the top. They bound it well with thongs of hide, To make it firm and good;...
There's such a lot of work to do, for such a troubled head! I'm scribbling this against a book, with foolscap round, in bed. It strikes me that I'll scribble much in this way by and by,...
The breezes waved the silver grass, Waist-high along the siding, And to the creek we ne'er could pass Three boys on bare-back riding; Beneath the sheoaks in the bend The waterhole was brimming,...
The Eagle screams at the beck of trade, so Spain, as the world goes round, Must wrestle the right to live or die from the sons of the land she found;...
Shrivelled leather, rusty buckles, and the rot is in our knuckles, Scorched for months upon the pommel while the brittle rein hung free; Shrunken eyes that once were lighted with fresh boyhood, dull and blighted,...
An hour before the sun goes down Behind the ragged boughs, I go across the little run And bring the dusty cows; And once I used to sit and rest Beneath the fading dome,...
They can't hear in West o' London, where the worst dine with the best, Deaf to all save lies and laughter, they can't hear in London West, Tailored brutes and splendid harlots, and the parasites that be,...
A public parlour in the slums, The haunt of vice and villainy, Where things are said unfit to hear, And things are done unfit to see; 'Mid ribald jest and reckless song,...
There are three lank bards in a borrowed room, Ah! The number is one too few, They have deemed their home and the bars unfit For the thing that they have to do....
"Was I at Eureka?" His figure was drawn to a youthful height, And a flood of proud recollections made the fire in his grey eyes bright; With pleasure they lighted and glisten'd, tho' the digger was grizzled and old,...
The squatter saw his pastures wide Decrease, as one by one The farmers moving to the west Selected on his run; Selectors took the water up And all the black soil round;...
They are creeping on through the cornfields yet, and they clamber amongst the rocks, Ere they rush to stab with the bayonet and smash with the rifle-stocks....
By Lawson's Hill, near Mudgee, On old Eurunderee, The place they called "New Pipeclay", Where the diggers used to be, On a dreary old selection, Where times were dry and thin,...
When you get tight in foreign lands You never need go slinking, No female neighbours lift their hands And say 'The brute!, he's drinking!' No mischief-maker runs with smiles To give your wife a notion,...