In the everlasting summer, when th… and the asphalt of the footpath cu… When you’re creased and crabbed an… And the persperation’s drippin’ in… There’s a penetratin’ odor gets ab…

‘Arry an’ me is bits of sports; When the summer comes around We gits our sweaters an’ guns an’… An’ we seeks out 'untin’ ground. Tennis an’ 'ikin’ we reckons tame;

The quiet country doctors Of many a country town, Whose lives are spent to service b… With scant hope of renown Those sturdy country doctors,

I wonder what the Jacks have got… I’m sure the worms don’t see the j… I wonder which is best: a rich plu… Or lemon ice, or plain boiled rice… I wonder why I wear a tie. It is…

Dargo is a dark-haired lass Prone to independent ways; Few men know her, fewer pass, Where her pleasant river plays But the smile in her blue eye

I’m the friendliest of them all, When winter comes; Daily at your door I call Begging crumbs. Clinging sideways to a stake,

Gentlemen! a politician, One who values his position, Stands, with easy confidence, Here before you on the fence. For he knows full well, good frien…

Borrowin’ over the water; I’ve se… Raisin’ loans (said Old George J… Was a trick we learned of yore. Borrowin’ over the water In the old Australian way

Anzac! And war’s grim storm . . . The scream of a pass’ng shell Torn earth, and - a quiet form . .… ‘Pass, comrades. All is well.’ Nay, but his spirit lives; be very…

Gyved and chained in his father’s… He toiled 'neath a conqueror’s rul… Bowed to the earth in the land of… The Slave who was Son of a Fool. Poor remnant he of a conquered rac…

He dreaded not dark, nor the lonel… For the world, as he knew it, was… Nor threat of the risk, nor necess… Gave fear to his innocent mind. He was merely abroad for a country…

I wondered wot was doin’. First I… Ole Missus Flood wave signals to… I’m in the paddick slashin’ down s… She’s comin’ up the road; an’ if s… An 'andspring I won’t be su’prise…

Spring surely must be near. High… The kind blue heavens bend to timb… And here, this morning, is the pic… That I have learned to love the b… I hear Flame Robin call

The orchardist, with hope aglow, Sets out a crop of fruit to grow And sell it wisely where he can, Like any other business man; And he strives to make a contract…

The sun burns hotly thro’ the gums As down the road old Rogan comes The hatter from the lonely hut Beside the track to Woollybutt. He likes to spend his Christmas w…