#AustralianWriters
A day of seeming innocence, A glorious sun and sky, And, just above my picket fence, Black Bonnet passing by. In knitted gloves and quaint old d…
There is a lasting little flower, That everybody knows, Yet none has thought to think abou… The little Native Rose. The wattle and the waratah—
Jack Denver died on Talbragar whe… And there was sorrow round the pla… Jack Denver’s wife bowed down her… And big Ben Duggan by the bed sto… But big Ben Duggan saddled up, an…
‘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…
The Lady of the Motor Car she st… Her face is like the stone, my fri… Her face is like the stone, my fri… Because her heart is dead, my frie… The Lady of the Motor Car she sp…
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…
Out there by the rocks, at the end… In the mouth of the river, the Wa… She is resting where meet the blue… And only her masts and her funnel… And you see, when is fading the su…
When we’ve arrived by boat or rail… And humped our heavy gladstones to… And when we’ve had a wash and brus… And ate a hearty country meal—our… (Damn the city!)
It surely cannot be too soon, and… It tones with all Australia’s t… And so I bring an old refrain fro… And lift the good old words again,… She bore me on her tented fields,…
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,…
So you’re writing for a paper? W… To be writing yards of drivel for… You are young and educated, and a… But you’ll never run a paper like… Though in point of education I am…
We love the land when the world go… And deep, deep down in her thorny… Where nobody comes, and nobody kno… We love the Rose. Oh! we love the… And none to tell us, and none to t…
The rattling “donkey” ceases, The bell says we must part, You long slab of good-nature, And poetry and art! We’ll miss your smile in Sydney,
BRAVE the anger of the wealthy!… Tell the Truth in simple language… And they’ll read it by the slush-l… I have seen the People’s triumph… It as pictured by the campfires do…
If they missed my face in Farmers… When the landlord lit the lamp, They would grin and say in their c… 'Oh! he’s down at the Gipsy camp!… But they’d read of things in the…