He had offices in Sydney, not so… And his shingle bore the legend ‘… But his real name was Careless, a… And his relatives decided that he… ‘Twas their gentle tongues that bl…

While tyrants rule the land, Beneath the Irish skies; While e’er the iron hand Upon our people lies; While sons are driven forth

To my fellow sinners all, who, in… Through the Commonwealth to-night… New Year’s Resolutions are jerry-… But I want to say to you, “Give y… You who drink for drinking’s sake,…

The breezes blow on the river belo… And the fleecy clouds float high, And I mark how the dark green gum… The bright blue dome of the sky. The rain has been, and the grass i…

“Nobody’s enemy save his own”— (What shall it be in the end?)— Still by the nick-name he is known… “Everyone’s Friend.” “Nobody’s Enemy” stands alone

You may roam the wide seas over, f… Sail as far as ships can sail, and… You may ride and tramp wherever ra… But the crowd has been before you,… For the Early Days are over,

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…

Who’s that mysterious rider, Full-sized, yet far away, Seen by the Western-sider— A spectre of the day? On ridge or seeming high line

They lifted her out of a story Too sordid and selfish by far, They left me the innocent glory Of love that was pure as a star; They left me all guiltless of “evi…

The camp of high-class spielers, Who sneered in summer dress, And doo-dah dilettante, And scornful “venuses”— House agents, and storekeepers,

When friends are listening round m… And I am lying in a sleep they sa… Don’t notice what the doctor says,… I’ll tell you how to rouse me if… Just you bring in your fiddle, Ja…

WE THROW us down on the dusty p… When the gold has gone from the we… But we rise and tramp on the track… For we’re tired—too tired to rest. Darker and denser the shadows fall

By Lawson’s Hill, near Mudgee, On old Eurunderee— The place they called “New Pipecl… Where the diggers used to be— On a dreary old selection,

The blue sky arches o’er mountain… The scene is as fair as a scene ca… But I’m breaking my heart for a L… And fogs that shall never come bac… I choke with tears when the day is…

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…