"In the fight at Brandywine, Black Samson, a giant negro armed with a scythe, sweeps his way through the red ranks...." C. M. Skinner's "Myths and Legends of Our Own Land."
As I lie at rest on a patch of clover In the Western Park when the day is done, I watch as the wild black swans fly over With their phalanx turned to the sinking sun;...
The day, all fierce with carmine, turns An Indian face towards Earth and dies; The west, like some gaunt vase, inurns Its ashes under smouldering skies, Athwart whose bowl one red cloud streams,...
It is usual for people in this country (out of pretended respect but rather from an impertinent curiosity) to desire to see persons after they are dead. ...
O happy they whose hearts receive The implanted word with faith; believe Because their fathers did before, Because they learnt, and ask no more High triumphs of convictions wrought,...
Blest Statesman He, whose Mind's unselfish will Leaves him at ease among grand thoughts: whose eye Sees that, apart from magnanimity, Wisdom exists not; nor the humbler skill...
When silver snow decks Susan's clothes, And jewel hangs at th' shepherd's nose, The blushing bank is all my care, With hearth so red, and walls so fair; `Heap the sea-coal, come, heap it higher,...
"My life is drear; walking I labour sore; The heart in me is heavy as a stone; And of my sorrows this the icy core: Life is so wide, and I am all alone!" ...
Over the mossy walls, Above the slumbering fields Where yet the ground no fruitage yields, Save as the sunlight falls In dreams of harvest-yellow, What voice remembered calls, -...
Little Blue Shoes Mustn't go Very far alone, you know Else she'll fall down, Or, lose her way; Fancy--what Would mamma say? Better put her little hand Under sister's wise command....
Pull away merrily--over the waters! Bend to your oars for the wood-tangled shore; We're off and afloat with earth's loveliest daughters, Worth all the argosies wave ever bore....
Grown tired of mourning for my sins, And brooding over merits, The other night with aching heart I went amongst the spirits; And I met one that I knew well: 'O Scotty's Ghost! is that you?...
It surely cannot be too soon, and never is too late, It tones with all Australia's tune to praise one's native State, And so I bring an old refrain from days of posts and rails,...