#AustralianWriters
Reynard, the fox, was asked to a p… “Come”, they said, in your Sunday… For we like good form, tho’ the fu… So all who dance must be formally… Black tail-coat and a shirt-front…
Smith is a very stupid man; He lives next door to me; He has no settled scheme or plan Of domesticity. He does not own a gramophone,
High on the hills, where the tall… There lives an axeman that 1 know. From his little hut by a ferny cre… Day after day, week after week, He goes each morn with his shining…
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…
We roam about the countryside And view the farmlands rolling wid… A picture surely this of peace, of… We mark within these sylvan scenes The whirr and clatter of machines
A patriot spake thus to an eager t… ‘Give me the power and I shall ri… And Fortune, smiling, on our land… His name was COOK. Lo, I beheld, throughout a contin…
Don’t yeh hear them callin, to yeh… Where the skyline’s smeared an’ gr… There’s a crowd o’ chaps that knew… Don’t yeh hear them callin’ to yeh Mates o’ yours with 'oom yeh used…
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…
Hi, it’s a funny world! This mor… I saw red robin on the fence, an’… Red robin, he’s a perky chap, an’… ‘Dear, it’s a pity that poor Jenn… To talk like that about his wife!…
His Honor walked into the shop For of shopping his Honor was fon… Did she blush? Did her eyes indi… In that slim little, trim little b… Did his bachelor heart miss a beat…
Now Percival Gregory Grandison-L… He came of a fine old stock. His sire was an eminent K.C.B, But Percival never appeared to be A chip off that shrewd old block.
The bushmen call me ‘Cranky Fan,’ Because my strange erratic flight Seems to uncomprehending man Sign of a wit not over-bright; But nimble wit and nimble wing
I’m sittin’ 'ere, Mick - sittin’… Feelin’ ‘arf glum, ’arf sorter - r… Thinkin’ strange, crooked thorts o… ’The 'eads is bowed thro’ all a co… An’ wond’rin - wond’rin 'in a kind…
Nobody knew why it should be so; Nobody knew or wanted to know. It might have been checked had but… To trace its beginnings; but nobod… But ’twas clear to the wise that t…
‘Why do they do it? I dunno,’ Sez Digger Smith. ‘Yeh got me be… Some uv the yarns yeh ’ear is true… An’ some is rather umptydoo, An’ some is - indiscreet.