I hate the pen, the foolscap fair, The poet's corner, and the page, For Grief and Death are written there, In every land and every age. The poets sing and play their parts,...
He has notions of Australia from the tales that he's been told, Land of leggings and revolvers, land of savages and gold; So he begs old shirts, and someone patches up his worn-out duds....
There's the same old coaching stable that was used by Cobb and Co., And the yard the coaches stood in more than sixty years ago; And the public-private parlour, where they serve the passing swell,...
There's the same old coaching stable that was used by Cobb and Co., And the yard the coaches stood in more than sixty years ago; And the public-private parlour, where they serve the passing swell,...
By our place in the midst of the furthest seas we were fated to stand alone, When the nations fly at each other's throats let Australia look to her own;...
I met with Jack Cornstalk in London to-day, He saw me and coo-eed from over the way. Oh! the solemn-faced Londoners stared with surprise At his hair and his height as compared with his size!...
I cannot blame old Israel yet, For I am not a sage, I shall not know until I get The son of my old age. The mysteries of this Vale of Tears We will perchance explain...
They'd parted but a year before, she never thought he'd come, She stammer'd, blushed, held out her hand, and called him 'Mister Gum.' How could he know that all the while she longed to murmur 'John.'...
The rising moon on the peaks was blending Her silver light with the sunset glow, When a swagman came as the day was ending Along a path that he seemed to know. But all the fences were gone or going,...
On the summit of Mount Clarence rotting slowly in the air Stands a tall and naked flagstaff, relic of the Russian scare, Russian scare that scares no longer, for the cry is 'All is well',...
Now up and down the siding brown The great black crows are flyin', And down below the spur, I know, Another `milker's' dyin'; The crops have withered from the ground, The tank's clay bed is glarin',...
He had offices in Sydney, not so many years ago, And his shingle bore the legend `Peter Anderson and Co.' But his real name was Careless, as the fellows understood,...
Now this is a rhyme that might well be carried Gummed in your hat till the end of things: Say Good-bye when your chum is married; Say Good-bye while the church-bell rings;...
At suburban railway stations, you may see them as you pass, there are signboards on the platform saying "Wait here second class," And to me the whirr and thunder and the cluck of running-gear...
Fools can parrot-cry the prophet when the proof is close at hand, And the blind can see the danger when the foe is in the land! Truth was never cynicism, death or ruin's not a joke,...
They stood by the door of the Inn on the Rise; May Carney looked up in the bushranger's eyes: `Oh! why did you come?, it was mad of you, Jack; You know that the troopers are out on your track.'...
Ye children of the Land of Gold, I sing a song to you, And if the jokes are somewhat old, The main idea is new. So be it sung, by hut and tent, Where tall the native grows;...