Have you seen the bush by moonlight, from the train, go running by? Blackened log and stump and sapling, ghostly trees all dead and dry; Here a patch of glassy water; there a glimpse of mystic sky?...
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 the tent poles are rotting, the camp fires are dead, And the possums may gambol in trees overhead; I am humping my bluey far out on the land, And the prints of my bluchers sink deep in the sand:...
We set no right above hers, No earthly light nor star, She hath had many lovers, But not as lovers are: They all were gallant fellows And died all deaths for her, And never one was jealous...
The old year went, and the new returned, in the withering weeks of drought, The cheque was spent that the shearer earned, and the sheds were all cut out;...
Sing us a song in this cynical age, Sing us a song, my friend, While the Flesh and the Devil are all the rage And Death seems the only end. Give it the clatter of hoof-clipped bones...
I want to be lighting my pipe on deck, With my baggage safe below, I want to be free of the crowded quay, While the steamer's swinging slow. I want to be free of treachery,...
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. ...
So yer trav'lin' for yer pleasure while yer writin' for the press? An' yer huntin' arter 'copy'? well, I've heer'd o' that. I guess You are gorn ter write a story that is gorn ter be yer best,...
Queen Hilda rode along the lines, And she was young and fair; And forward on her shoulders fell The heavy braids of hair: No gold was ever dug from earth Like that burnished there,...
Oh, the wild black swans fly westward still, While the sun goes down in glory, And away o'er lonely plain and hill Still runs the same old story: The sheoaks sigh it all day long,...
The boy cleared out to the city from his home at harvest time, They were Scots of the Riverina, and to run from home was a crime. The old man burned his letters, the first and last he burned,...
The Wireless tells and the cable tells How our boys behaved by the Dardanelles. Some thought in their hearts 'Will our boys make good?' We knew them of old and we knew they would! Knew they would,...
Far back in the days when the blacks used to ramble In long single file 'neath the evergreen tree, The wool-teams in season came down from Coonamble, And journeyed for weeks on their way to the sea,...
Macquarie the shearer had met with an accident. To tell the truth, he had been in a drunken row at a wayside shanty, from which he had escaped with three fractured ribs, a cracked head, and various minor abrasions. His dog, Tal...
I listened through the music and the sounds of revelry, And all the hollow noises of that year of Jubilee; I heard beyond the music and beyond the local cheer,...
Sing the strong, proud song of Labour, Toss the ringing music high; Liberty's a nearer neighbour Than she was in days gone by. Workmen's weary wives and daughters Sing the songs of liberty;...
Two little girls aged six and nine, the daughters of a lengthsman on the railway at Walloon, near Ipswich, Queensland, were sent on an errand by their parents and it is supposed they were attracted by some water-lilies in a poo...
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;...