The boarder in the bar-room rose, A pale gaunt man who lodged with Hann, 'I bear,' he said, 'the worst of woes, And suffer torments no one knows, For do my best I never can...
Past a dull, grey plain where a world-old grief seems to brood o'er the silent land, When the orb'd moon turns her tense, white face on the ominous waste of sand,...
We are wondering why those fellows who are writing cheerful ditties Of the rosy times out droving, and the dust and death of cities, Do not leave the dreary office, ask a drover for a billet,...
A letter came from Dick to-day; A greeting glad he sends to me. He tells of one more bloody fray, Of how with bomb and rifle they Have put their mark for all to see Across rock-ribbed Gallipoli. ...