Works

You say we bushmen cannot love,
Our lives are too prosaic: hence
We lose or lack that finer sense
That raises some few men above
Their fellows, setting them apart
As vessels of a finer make,...

Diamantina River, Western Queensland


The first flush of grey light, the herald of daylight,
Is dimly outlining the musterer's camp,
Where over the sleeping, the stealthily creeping...

Long time beside the squatter's gate
A great grey Box-Tree, early, late,
Or shine or rain, in silence there
Had stood and watched the seasons fare:
Had seen the wind upon the plain...

Out on the wastes of the Never Never
That's where the dead men lie!
There where the heat-waves dance forever
That's where the dead men lie!
That's where the Earth's loved sons are keeping...