By blacksoil plains burned grey with drought Where desert shrubs and grasses grow, Along the Land of Furthest Out That only Overlanders know. I dreamed I camped on river grass...
Old Mate! In the gusty old weather, When our hopes and our troubles were new, In the years spent in wearing out leather, I found you unselfish and true, I have gathered these verses together...
You ask me to be gay and glad While lurid clouds of danger loom, And vain and bad and gambling mad, Australia races to her doom. You bid me sing the light and fair,...
Spirit girl to whom 'twas given To revisit scenes of pain, From the hell I thought was Heaven You have lifted me again; Through the world that I inherit, Where I loved her ere she died,...
So, I've battled it through on my own, Jack, I have done with all dreaming and doubt. Though 'stoney' to-night and alone, Jack, I am watching the Old Year out. I have finished with brooding and fears,...
I gaze upon my son once more, With eyes and heart that tire, As solemnly he stands before The screen drawn round the fire; With hands behind clasped hand in hand, Now loosely and now fast,...
When you're suffering hard for your sins, old man, When you wake to trouble and sleep ill, Oh, this is the clack of the middle class, 'Win back the respect of the people!'...
Farewell! The gold we send shall be a token Of that which in our hearts is growing strong; You asked our sympathy, and we have spoken, 'They wrong us who our brothers rob and wrong.' ...
O had you tracked where Kendall trod I think you would be kneelin' Three times a week and thankin' God That you are of New Zealan'! For this I'll say, to make it short, An' keep my tongue from clacken,...
I thought that silence would be best, But I a call have heard, And, Victor, after all the rest, I well might say a word: The day and work is nearly done, And ours the victory,...
One day old Trooper Campbell Rode out to Blackman's Run, His cap-peak and his sabre Were glancing in the sun. 'Twas New Year's Eve, and slowly Across the ridges low The sad Old Year was drifting...
You lazy boy, you're here at last, You must be wooden-legged; Now, are you sure the gate is fast And all the sliprails pegged And all the milkers at the yard, The calves all in the pen?...
I am back from up the country, very sorry that I went, Seeking for the Southern poets' land whereon to pitch my tent; I have lost a lot of idols, which were broken on the track,...
A bushman got lost in a scrub in the North, And all the long morning the searchers went forth. They swore at the rain that had washed out the tracks And left not a trace for the eyes of the blacks;...
When the kindly hours of darkness, save for light of moon and star, Hide the picture on the signboard over Doughty's Horse Bazaar; When the last rose-tint is fading on the distant mulga scrub,...
Oh, the scene is wide an' dreary an' the sun is settin' red, An' the grey-black sky of winter's comin' closer overhead. Oh, the sun is settin' bloody with a blood-line on the snow,...