#Australians #XIXCentury #XXCentury
There were ten of us there on the… And one on the for’ard hatch; No straighter mate to his mates th… Had ever said: ‘Len’s a match!’ “’Twill be long, old man, ere our…
The boy cleared out to the city fr… They were Scots of the Riverina,… The old man burned his letters, th… And he scratched his name from the… A year went past and another. The…
Oh, Great White Czar of Russia,… You’ve flung afar the grandest cha… You might have been, and could hav… The Czar of all the Russias, in f… ‘The Father of your People,’ your…
I only woke this morning To find the world is fair— I’m going on for forty, With scarcely one grey hair; I’m going on for forty,
Only one old post is standing— Solid yet, but only one— Where the milking, and the brandin… And the slaughtering were done. Later years have brought dejection…
Texas Jack, you are amusin’. By… When I seen yer rig and saddle wi… Holy smoke! In such a saddle how… Why, I seen a gal ride bareback w… Gosh! so-help-me! strike-me-balmy!…
I was drifting in the drizzle past… Which, I’m told, is very tony—and… And I somehow fell a-thinking of… Of a palace in Australia called T… Just a little six-room’d shanty bu…
There’s many a schoolboy’s bat and… For he hears a voice in the future… A serious light in his eyes is see… He keeps his kit and his rifle cle… But straight or crooked, or round,…
While tyrants rule the land, Beneath the Irish skies; While e’er the iron hand Upon our people lies; While sons are driven forth
We have lived till these times, br… We who lived in this; We have not grown old together, Soon our lives must close— Rewi’s first! For I am dying
’Tis a yarn I heard of a new-chum… On the edge of the Never-Never, Where the dead men lie and the bla… And the bushman lies for ever. ’Twas the custom still with the lo…
It was the King of Virland— O he was angry then— That rode to crush rebellion With twenty thousand men. His enemies he scattered
It knows it all, it knows it all, The world of groans and laughter, It sneers of pride before a fall, But the bitter pride comes after: So leave me and I’ll seek you not…
The season is over; The shearing is done; The wages are paid; and The ‘sprees’ have begun. But never a shanty
He comes from out the ages dim— The good Samaritan; I somehow never pictured him A fat and jolly man; But one who’d little joy to glean,
