‘There must be some way out,’ they… ‘There must be some way out! We’ve fallen on an evil day; That we no longer doubt. But surely there’s some magic rare

Long faces, hangin’ lips an’ eyes… Meegrims an’ mulligrubs, mournfuln… Faith in the future gone to glory… I’ve seen it all a score o’ times… I seen it all a year ago, if you w…

The Censor sits behind his desk, And smiles a censored smile; His great, blue pencil hovers o’er Some masterpiece awhile, Then swoops - oh, child of whose p…

We curse our lot; we gird at fate; Like peevish children we complain; Hope dies, and life grows desperat… Because of ease and pleasures sali… Because bright fortune fails to sm…

Jack Sprat would eat no fat, His wife would eat no lean, And so, betwixt them both, you see… They licked the platter clean. Old nursery rhyme

Now a sad farewell to the cable-tr… Staunch friend of the quieter days… That glided down thro’ a leisured… Ere the urge for speed was a craze… We’d time to spare and we took the…

We were cartin’ lathes and palin’s… With our axles near the road-bed a… And our bullocks weren’t precisely… And meself and Messmate Mitchell… It had rained a tidy skyful in the…

I’d like to be a sailor - a sailor… Calling out, ‘Ship ahoy!’ in manl… I’d learn to box the compass, and… I’d sniff and snifff the briny bre… Perhaps I’d chew tobacco, or an o…

I ‘ad been bushed in city streets, Where the bricks and mortar grow. I ’ad worked me way through the no… ‘Oo’s landmarks I don’t know. There was faces, faces, driftin’ p…

To this green place the tourists t… By twos, by threes, and group by g… Lads in bright blazers, girls in s… Hikers with rucksack on their back… And bush ways, till their advent s…

I saw him stand, a Polar man, Cold anger in his frigid eye, Facing it wild, unruly clan Who poised their fiery shafts on h… Strangely, his very coldness fed

‘Young friend,’ 'e sez . . . Youn… Yeh’d think I wus ‘is own white ’… The queer ole finger, wiv ‘is gent… ’Young friend,' ‘e sez, ’I wish’t… The langwidge that them parson blo…

A sight that gives me much distres… Is George without his trousers, Garbed, scantily, in bathing dress Proscribed by saintly Wowsers, And Gerty, gay and forward flirt,

‘Ah, wot’s the use?' she sez. 'L… Why can’t I go to ‘ell in my own… I never arst you ’ere to mag an’ m… Nor yet,' she sez, 'to pray. I’ll take wot’s comin’, an’ whine…

Brothers, what are we to think When we muse upon strong drink? Is it bad or is it good? Is it poison or is it food? Albatrosses, so say some,