If yer gotter corf about yer, Gotter corf— Gotter corf— If yer gotter corf about yer, Gotter cord—

There are three lank bards in a bo… Ah! The number is one too few— They have deemed their home and th… For the thing that they have to do… Three glasses they fill with the…

Above the ashes straight and tall, Through ferns with moisture drippi… I climb beneath the sandstone wall… My feet on mosses slipping. Like ramparts round the valley’s e…

Ned knew I was short of tobacco o… And that I was too proud to ask f… He hated such pride, but his delic… Forbade him to take me to task for… I loathed to be cadging tobacco fr…

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…

Tall, and stout, and solid-looking… Yet a wreck; None would think Death’s finger’s… Him from deck. Cause of half the fun that’s start…

‘For he rides hard to dull the pai… Who rides from him who loves him b… But he rides slowly home again, Whose restless heart must rove for…

Behold! the biased foes of Right Are conscious of their danger, They’re startled by the dawning li… So very long a stranger. And fearing for their rotting laws…

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…

Let bushmen think as bushmen will, And say whate’er they choose, I hate to hear the stupid sneer At New Chum Jackaroos. He may not ride as you can ride,

Now, I think there is a likeness… For he did a lot of trampin’ long… He was 'union’ when the workers fi… And I’m glad that old St Peter k… When the ancient agitator and his…

Now up and down the siding brown The great black crows are flyin’, And down below the spur, I know, Another `milker’s’ dyin’; The crops have withered from the g…

Call this hot? I beg your pardon.… (What’s that, waiter? lamb or mutt… Bread and butter while I’m waitin… I’m just in from west the Darling… Mutton stewed or chops for breakfa…

On western plain and eastern hill Where once my fancy ranged, The station hands are riding still And they are little changed. But I have lost in London gloom