#Australians #XIXCentury #XXCentury
He was lengthsman on the railway,… That “pre-eminence in sorrow” of t… But as dear to him and precious we… Were the workman’s little daughter… Speak their names in tones that li…
By our place in the midst of the f… When the nations fly at each other… Let her spend her gold on the barr… For the South must look to the So… Now who shall gallop from cape to…
‘this a wonderful time when these… These long ’small hours’ of night, When grass is crisp, and the air i… And the stars come close and brigh… The moon hangs caught in a silvery…
THE CROSS-CUT and the crowbar… And make a greenhide rack to fit t… The “done” long-handled shovel and… The crowbar, pick-axe and the “thr… The old patched tent and “fly”, ba…
Over there, above the jetty, stand… With a tennis ground and terrace,… They are gentlemen and ladies—they… But old Varden’s been unlucky—los… Troubles gathered fast upon him wh…
BY RIGHT of birth in southern l… I see my country ruined by the wro… And shall I stand with fireless e… While Mammon builds his Londons o… CHORUS:
His old clay pipe stuck in his mou… His hat pushed from his brow, His dress best fitted for the Sou… I think I see him now; And when the city streets are stil…
The rooster is a brainless dude, a… The hen’s an awful fool we know, t… She’ll flutter, cackling, anywhere… And try to hatch a door-knob, too,… The turkey is of small account, we…
Of his beauty, or stature, or colo… But he comes to me as a little man… With a heart somewhere if it wasn’… With a bark or a yelp for his frie… The Japs had taken a permanent fo…
On the Track of Grand Endeavour,… Past the Turn-Back, and past How… Past old Bullock-Yoke and Bog Fl… Lies the camp that we have christe… We were young and strong and fearl…
You almost heard the surface bake,… You could have watched the grass s… In such a drought the strongest he… 'Twould frighten Satan to his hom… The tanks went dry on Ninety Mile…
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 world is narrow and ways are s… For little is new where the crowds… Greater, or smaller, the same old… And tired of all is the spirit tha… of the days when the world was wid…
The old year went, and the new ret… The cheque was spent that the shea… and the sheds were all cut out; The publican’s words were short an… and the publican’s looks were blac…
The Eagle screams at the beck of… Must wrestle the right to live or… For, as in the days when the bucca… The national honour is one thing d… She has slaughtered thousands with…
