#AustralianWriters
The Sphinx The spires of sand spring up at ev… That bids them dance and scatter a… He sits impassive, as the ages flo… And bear superbly the mirage of lu…
Borne in the car along a crowded w… Sun-soaked, I saw the world like… Or phantom boats, upon a running t… Driven through flying fog at break… “The chain gang? Yes,” I heard a…
From every quarter we, Who bent the trembling knee And cowered or grovelled prostrate… Now come once more to sing A dirge before thee, King,
Beside the path, on either hand, To keep the garden beds, The rusted iron pickets stand Thin shafts and pointed heads. And straight my spirit swooping go…
The cold green rocks and lapping w… Are all my world as here I sit With downcast eye and heart that c… The bush and blue sky over it. The tide of years is washing by,
The patriot from his walls of bras… Is singing loudly as I pass; With fearless heart and open eyes, He shouts the ancient battle cries… And, where I pause to hear him si…
What of these tender feet That have never toddled yet? What dances shall they beat, With what red vintage wet? In what wild way will they march o…
“There is no place,” he said, “For love or pity here; We dread and only dread The moods that once were dear. “We break the ancient spell,
One very rough day on the Pride o… In the scuppers a poor little cabi… When the Bosun drew nigh with wra… And gave him a kick to remember hi… As he cried with a sneer: “What g…
In what pearl-paven mossy cave By what green sea Art thou reclining, virgin of the… In realms more full of splendid my… Than that strong northern flood wh…
The world, all busy round us here… Is still unchanged: but you are tw… The mind, victorious with the risi… Steps boldly and blithely through… On greener grass where brighter fl…
“Our loss was light,” the paper sa… “Compared with damage to the Hun”… She was a widow, and she read One name upon the list of dead —Her son—her only son.
Behind us lay the homely shore With youthful memories aureoled; A sky of dazzling blue before, We sailed a sea of molten gold. To our old haven we return;
The spell of Shakespeare fills th… With earthly music loud and low; But Marlowe drives the clouds apa… And through their thundering rifts…
The seeking souls, by baleful fire… Torn by entrapping brambles, thirs… Hear on the lonely waste the steal… And half-held breath of glaring be… Then soft hands lead them where th…