#AustralianWriters
They stood by the door of the Inn… May Carney looked up in the bushr… ‘Oh! why did you come?—it was mad… You know that the troopers are out… A laugh and a shake of his obstina…
Texas Jack, you are amusin’. By… When I seen yer rig and saddle wi… Holy smoke! In such a saddle how… Why, I seen a gal ride bareback w… Gosh! so-help-me! strike-me-balmy!…
I’ve done with joys an’ misery, An’ why should I repine? There’s no one knows the past but… An’ that ol’ dog o’ mine. We camp an’ walk an’ camp an’ walk…
Above the ashes straight and tall, Through ferns with moisture drippi… I climb beneath the sandstone wall… My feet on mosses slipping. Like ramparts round the valley’s e…
The blue sky arches o’er mountain… The scene is as fair as a scene ca… But I’m breaking my heart for a L… And fogs that shall never come bac… I choke with tears when the day is…
When Charley sang of Polan’s Dea… ‘Twould stir your heart and soul a… you’d grip your seat and hold your… And want to fight for Polan’
She says she’s very sorry, as she… You calmly say 'Good-bye’ to her… Then you lift your hat and leave h… But you’re hit, old man—hit hard. In your brain the words are burnin…
It knows it all, it knows it all, The world of groans and laughter, It sneers of pride before a fall, But the bitter pride comes after: So leave me and I’ll seek you not…
There’s such a lot of work to do,… I’m scribbling this against a book… It strikes me that I’ll scribble… And write my last lines so perchan… There’s lots of things to come and…
The rising moon on the peaks was b… Her silver light with the sunset g… When a swagman came as the day was… Along a path that he seemed to kno… But all the fences were gone or go…
The centuries found me to nations… My people have crowned me and made… My royal regalia is love, truth, a… A girl called Australia– I’ve com… Though no fields of conquest grew…
When the wars of the world seemed… Ten years ago in Australia, I wro… And I pictured Australians fighti… For the old things, pride or count… And they lounged on the rim of Au…
She’s milking in the rain and dark… As did her mother in the past. The wretched shed of poles and bar… Rent by the wind, is leaking fast. She sees the “home-roof” black and…
Not to the sober and staid, Leading a quiet life, But to men whose paths are laid Ever through storm and strife— Here is a song from me,
If they missed my face in Farmers… When the landlord lit the lamp, They would grin and say in their c… 'Oh! he’s down at the Gipsy camp!… But they’d read of things in the…