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…

Gray eyes and gamboge hair! One barmaid of 'The Crown’! Ah, will that beaming siren still… When I go next to town? - When over-night much spirit I had…

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…

He was a bachelor, gallant and gay She was a spinster prim - Pretty and prim, with a wonderful… Which had captivated him. Oh! well knew she what he wished t…

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,…

The world around is sleeping, The stars are bright o’erhead, The shades of myalls weeping Upon the sward are spread; Among the gloomy pinetops

‘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

The morning-tide is fair and brigh… With golden sun up-springing; The cedars glowed in the new-born… And the bell-bird’s note was ringi… While diamonds dropped by dusky N…

One fox-faced virgin, word for wor… Repeats each sland’rous thing she’… And sourly smiles as scandal slips With gusto from her thin white lip… She’s bad enough! but list a minut…

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…

It was a mighty snug resort, that… A snug resort where fellows dined… The boarders all had gone to bed,… When Pat suggested to his pal ’tw… They drifted to the closing bar, a…

Girls in town and boys out back, I’ve rolled up my little pack, And on june’s chill wintry gales Sail from pleasant New South Wal… Ere I go - a doggerel song

Trapping brumbies in the moonlight… ‘Way back on Campbell’s country -… When saddled up and ready qur impa… While we squatted in the gunyah wi… And presently the hoof-beats of th…

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…

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…