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…

The world has had enough of bards… ‘Tis time the people passed a law… For ‘twould be lovely if their fri… Those bards of ’tears’ and 'vanish… They say that life’s an awful thin…

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…

I want to be lighting my pipe on d… With my baggage safe below— I want to be free of the crowded q… While the steamer’s swinging slow. I want to be free of treachery,

Fire lighted; on the table a meal… A lantern in the stable; a jingle… The mail-coach looming darkly by l… The growl of sleepy voices; a cand… A stumble in the passage of folk w…

I have sinned, like others, blindl… And my best friends say it kindly,… Shall I fly the paltry spirit of… While the battle-drums are beating… Down the street where all men know…

The squatter saw his pastures wide Decrease, as one by one The farmers moving to the west Selected on his run; Selectors took the water up

'Tis the song of many husbands, an… That you cannot call me coward now… I have written much for women, whe… But the men who made bad matches c… Oh, the men who made bad matches a…

So the time seems come at last, And the drums go rolling past, And above them in the sunlight La… They are marching with the sun, But I look in vain for one

I WISH I’d never gone to board In that house where I met The touring lady from abroad, Who mocks my nightmares yet. I wish—I wish that she had saved

So at last a toll they’ll levy For the passing fool who sings— Take the harp grown dull and heavy (With the dried blood on the strin… Let us sing, and sing right gaily,

When you wear a cloudy collar and… And you cannot sleep for thinking… You may be a man of sorrows, and o… And as yet be unacquainted with th… For I rather think that nothing h…

Not to the sober and staid, Leading a quiet life, But to men whose paths are laid Ever through storm and strife— Here is a song from me,

Our Andy’s gone to battle now 'Gainst Drought, the red marauder… Our Andy’s gone with cattle now Across the Queensland border. He’s left us in dejection now;

Dust and smoke against the sunrise… And a broken sky-line looming like… And a trot, trot, trot and canter… It is General Greybeard Shrapnel… And the scarecrows from the trench…