Whenever I'm moving my furniture in Or shifting my furniture out, Which is nearly as often and risky as Sin In these days of shifting about, There isn't a stretcher, there isn't a stick,...
Whenever I'm moving my furniture in Or shifting my furniture out, Which is nearly as often and risky as Sin In these days of shifting about, There isn't a stretcher, there isn't a stick,...
The world is narrow and ways are short, and our lives are dull and slow, For little is new where the crowds resort, and less where the wanderers go;...
Listen! The end draws nearer, Nearer the morning, or night, And I see with a vision clearer That the beginning was right! These shall be words to remember When all has been done and said,...
So at last a toll they'll levy For the passing fool who sings, Take the harp grown dull and heavy (With the dried blood on the strings) Let us sing, and sing right gaily, For the wreath is on our brow,...
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;...
Where the needle-woman toils Through the night with hand and brain, Till the sickly daylight shudders like a spectre at the pain, Till her eyes seem to crawl, And her brain seems to creep, ...
While tyrants rule the land, Beneath the Irish skies; While e'er the iron hand Upon our people lies; While sons are driven forth In other lands to dwell, Still in the South and North...
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...
My father-in-law is a careworn man, And a silent man is he; But he summons a smile as well as he can Whenever he meets with me. The sign we make with a silent shake That speaks of the days gone by,...
They have eaten their fill at your tables spread, Like friends since the land was won; And they rise with a cry of "Australia's dead!" With the wheeze of "Australia's done!"...
Let others sing praise of their sea-girted isles, But give me the bush with its limitless miles; Then it's over the ranges and into the West, To the scenes of wild boyhood; we love them the best. ...
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;...
Why are the sheoaks forever sighing? (Sheoaks that sigh when the wind is still), Why are the dead hopes forever dying? (Dead hopes that died and are with us still.) As you make it and what you will. ...
He's somewhere up in Queensland, The old folks used to say; He's somewhere up in Queensland, The people say to-day. But Somewhere (up in Queensland) That uncle used to know,...
Let us sing a song as not a Solitary poet sings, For our seething brain has got a Mighty grip on earthly things; We can feel the strength within us, And our soul is bounding high,...
At a point where the old road crosses The river, and turns to the right, I'd camped with the team; and the hosses Was all fixed up for the night. I'd been to the town to carry A load to the Cudgegong;...
There's such a lot of work to do, for such a troubled head! I'm scribbling this against a book, with foolscap round, in bed. It strikes me that I'll scribble much in this way by and by,...