Works

I remarked that man is saddest, and his heart is filled with woe,
When he hasn't any money, and his pants begin to go;
But I think I was mistaken, and there are many times I find...

When you wear a cloudy collar and a shirt that isn't white,
And you cannot sleep for thinking how you'll reach to-morrow night,
You may be a man of sorrows, and on speaking terms with Care,...

Where every bird is bold to go,
And bees abashless play,
The foreigner before he knocks
Must thrust the tears away.

When the clouds in the Western sky
Flush red with the setting sun,--
When the veil of twilight falls,
And the busy day is done,--
I sit and watch the clouds,
With their crimson hues alight,...

Where shall we bury our shame?
Where, in what desolate place,
Hide the last wreck of a name
Broken and stained by disgrace?
Death may dissever the chain,
Oppression will cease when we're gone;...

One blossoming rose-tree, like a beautiful thought
Nursed in a broken mind, that waits and schemes,
Survives, though shattered, and about it caught,
The strangling dodder streams.
...

The unexplored parts of Australia are sometimes spoken of by the bushmen of Western Queensland as the home of the pelican, a bird whose resting place, so far as the writer knows, is seldom, if ever, found.
...

Whether my bark went down at sea,
Whether she met with gales,
Whether to isles enchanted
She bent her docile sails;

By what mystic mooring
She is held to-day, --
This is the errand of the eye...

While beams of orient light shoot wide and high,
Deep in the vale a little rural Town
Breathes forth a cloud-like creature of its own,
That mounts not toward the radiant morning sky,...

Light up your pipe again, old chum, and sit awhile with me;
I've got to watch the bannock bake - how restful is the air!
You'd little think that we were somewhere north of Sixty-three,...

Oh, gaily sings the bird! and the wattle-boughs are stirr'd
And rustled by the scented breath of spring;
Oh, the dreary wistful longing! Oh, the faces that are thronging!...

Why are your tears so white?
Dear, I have wept so long
That my old tears grow white like my old hair.

Why are your tears so green?
Dear, the waters are wept away
And the green gall is flowing....

Midway between the flaming lines he lay,
A tumbled heap of blood, and sweat, and clay;
--God's son!

And none could succour him. First this one tried,...

Who bides his time, and day by day
Faces defeat full patiently,
And lifts a mirthful roundelay,
However poor his fortunes be,
He will not fail in any qualm
Of poverty - the paltry dime...

Who but is pleased to watch the moon on high
Traveling where she from time to time enshrouds
Her head, and nothing loth her Majesty
Renounces, till among the scattered clouds...

Who has not found the heaven below
Will fail of it above.
God's residence is next to mine,
His furniture is love.

Who is the Maid my spirit seeks,
Thro' cold reproof and slander's blight?
Has she Love's roses on her cheeks?
Is hers an eye of this world's light?
No--wan and sunk with midnight prayer...

OF all the beauteous wares
Exposed for sale at fairs,
None will give more delight
Than those that to your sight
From distant lands we bring.
Oh, hark to what we sing!
These beauteous birds behold,...

Hymen, late, his love-knots selling,
Called at many a maiden's dwelling:
None could doubt, who saw or knew them,
Hymen's call was welcome to them.
"Who'll buy my love-knots?
"Who'll buy my love-knots?"...

Who'll wear the beaten colours, and cheer the beaten men?
Who'll wear the beaten colours, till our time comes again?
Where sullen crowds are densest, and fickle as the sea,...