Works

Simple you were, and good. No kindlier heart
Beat than the heart within your gentle breast.
Labour you had, and happiness, and rest,
And were the maid of nations. Now you start...

Yes, you do well to mock us, you
Who knew our bitter woe -
To jeer the false, deny the true
In us blind struggling low,

While, on your pleasant place aloft
With flowers and clouds and streams,...

"Take with all my heart, friend, this,
The labour of my past,
Though the heart here hidden is
And the soul's eternities
Hold the present fast.

"Take it, still, with soul and heart,...

Madam, you have done well! Let others with praise unholy,
Speech addressed to a woman who never breathed upon earth,
Daub you over with lies or deafen your ears with folly,...

You tell me these great lords have raised up Art:
I say they have degraded it. Look you,
When ever did they let the poet sing,
The painter paint, the sculptor hew and cast,...

Take, then, your paltry Christ,
Your gentleman God.
We want the carpenter's son,
With his saw and hod.

We want the man who loved
The poor and oppressed,
Who hated the rich man and king...

You are at least a man, of men a king.
You have a heart, and with that heart you love.
The race you come from is not gendered of
The filthy sty whose latest litter cling...

Girls, we love you, and love
Asks you to give again
That which draws it above,
Beautiful, without stain.

Give us weariless faith
In our Cause pure, passionate,
Dearer than life and death,...

Grave this deep in your hearts,
Forget not the tale of the past!
Never, never believe
That any will help you, or can,
Saving only yourselves!
What have the gentlemen done,
Peerless haters of wrong,...

[The Delegates speak.]

"'Tyranny'? Yes, that's it!
We are not afraid
To face the word that's fit
For what we've said!

"It's the tyranny of the Many,
That will not allow...

What? do you say that we, the toilers - the slaves -
(Why strain at the gnat name
Who swallow the camel thing your pocket craves?) -
That we are "just the same,"
...

Bishop of Melbourne, who left Melbourne for the Bishopric of Manchester, 10th March 1886.

He came, a stranger, and we gave him welcome
More as loved friend than rumour's honoured guest....

"Why is it we toil so?
Where go all the gains?
What do we produce for it,
All our pangs and pains?"

Why it is we toil so,
Is it because, like sheep,
Since our fathers sought the shears,...

(For the Ballarat statue of him.)


This is Scotch William Wallace. It was he
Who in dark hours first raised his face to see:
Who watched the English tyrant nobles spurn,...