We’ve drunk our wine, we’ve kissed… The horses must be thinking it’s a… Sling the swags on Condamine and… And stuff a bottle in the bags and… What matter if the creeks are up -…

We trucked the cows to Homebush,… Went West through Cunnamulla, and… Camped a while at Gonybibil - but… It for the place where you and Mi… Young Merino bought the station,…

Somebody’s horse has finished his… Somebody’s saddle is on; But never a nigger the tracks can… Or know where Somebody’s gone. Over the rails and up the creek,

Never before was daughter of Eve… There be none of God’s holy angel… As thine, nor dreamer has ever dre… There’s a gleam in your golden tre… There is witchery in your smile,…

There’s a damper in the ashes, tea… There’s whips of feed and shelter… There’s gidya wood about us and wa… And just one bottle left yet of th… There are chops upon the embers, w…

A dandy old horsernan is Brigalow… Which his name, sir, is Michael O… Whatever he’s riding, when timber… He is always in front of the crowd… A few tangled locks that are fast…

In prison cell I sadly sit, A d__d crest-fallen chappie! And own to you I feel a bit– A little bit - unhappy! It really ain’t the place nor time

Ancient, wrinkled dames and jealou… They whom joyless Age downcasts - And the sere, gray-bearded fellows Who would fain re—live their pasts… These, the ancients, grimly tell u…

‘Love me little, love me long’ - Laggard lover penn’d such song. Rather, Neil!– In other style – Love me much, a little while. If that minstrel ever knew

0 woman, in man’s hour of ease And plenty, how you strive to plea… To win his heart– and purse– you t… With ogle, whisper, smile, and sig… But when he’s short of cash, you f…

Athwart the star-lit midnight sky Luminous fleecy clouds drift by, As the mysterious, pallid moon Sinks in the waveless still lagoon… Now that the queen of night is dea…

What are you doing now, Paddy Mag… Grafting, or spelling now, Paddy… Breaking, or branding? Or overlanding, Out on the sand ridges, Paddy Mag…

Could I borrow the laverock’s lif… Or the silvery song from the black… Then would I warble the whole day… Telling, in floods of passionate s… How worlds might tremble, or skies…

When I am tired, and old and worn… And harass’d by regret; When blame, reproach, and worldlin… On every side are met; When I have lived long years in v…

When the last rousing gallop is en… And the last post-and-rall has bee… And a cracked neck that cannot be… Shall have under the yew-tree been… Just you leave him alone-in God’s…