#AustralianWriters
REGION of damper and junk and t… Region of pastures wide! The fairest spots in the world to… Are out on the Lachlan Side. CHORUS:
The lovely Port of Sydney Lies laughing to the sky, The bonny Port of Sydney, Where the ships of nations lie. You shall never see such beauty,
“Now tell me what can England do?… Said the Kaiser to the Spy. “She can do nought, your Majesty— You rule the sea and sky. Her day of destiny is done;
Where the seasons are divided and… and the links are rather broken in… where the atmosphere is hazy under… lies the little town of Eton, rath… Near the township, in the graveyar…
She says she’s very sorry, as she… You calmly say 'Good-bye’ to her… Then you lift your hat and leave h… But you’re hit, old man—hit hard. In your brain the words are burnin…
The Country Girl reflects at last… And well in her young days— For she is learning very fast, The worth of City ways. The emptiness of Tailors men
Down the street as I was drifting… Came a ghost, and for a moment wal… Now my heart was hard and bitter,… So I felt no great aversion to hi… Said the Shade: ‘At finer feelin…
Fight through ignorance, want, and… Through the griefs that crush the… Push your way to a fortune fair, And the smiles of the world you’ll… Long, as a boy, for the chance to…
He is coming! He is coming! witho… He is coming! He is coming! and h… And, if you should pause to wonder… 'Tis the King of our Republic,… No, he comes not to amuse us, and…
As it was in the beginning, so we’… For a lover, or a brother, or a sw… As it was in the beginning, so we’… When weak women hug their babies,… As 'tis written now, or spoken,…
Dust, dust, dust and a dog— Oh! The sheep-dog won’t be last. When the long, long, shadow of the… With the shadow of his mate is cas… A brick-brown woman with the brick…
Ah, better the thud of the deadly… Than the terrible silence where dr… And better the rattle of rifles ne… Than the sound—most hellish of all… On the runs to the west of the Di…
The short hour’s halt is ended, The red gone from the west, The broken wheel is mended, And the dead men laid to rest. Three days have we retreated
They sunk a post into the ground Where their leaders bade them stop… It was a man’s height, and they sp… A crosspiece to the top. They bound it well with thongs of…
There are writers great and writer… And writers on the spree; And writers short and writers tall… And bards of low degree. There are artists small and artist…