#AustralianWriters
When he was old and thin And knew not night or day He would sit up to say Something of the fire within. How woefully his chin
In the dim counties we take the long calm Lilting no haziness, sequel or psalm. The little street wenches,
A pleasant shady place it is, a pl… The township folk go up and down,… Along the river lies my world, a d… I sit and learn - I cannot go; th… But Granny she has seen the world…
HAVE you ever been down to my co… Where the trees are green and tall… The days are long and the heavens… But the people there are small. There is no work there; it is alwa…
Let your song be delicate. The skies declare No war ' the eyes of lovers Wake everywhere. Let your voice be delicate.
The bird is my neighbour, a whimsi… There is in the lake a nobility fa… The bird is a noble, he turns to t… And the ripples are thoughts comin… The bird is both ancient and excel…
In the far days, when every day wa… Fear was upon me and the fear was… Ere I had learned the recompense… In the dim days I trembled, for I… God was above me, always frowning…
THE STARS are pale. Old is the Night, his case is gri… His strength doth fail. Through stilly hours The dews have draped with love’s o…
Three women walked upon a road, And the first said airily, ‘Of all the trees in all the wor… Which is the loving tree?' The second said, 'My eyes have…
YOUR voice was the rugged old voice that I knew; I gave the best grip of my greeting to you. I knew not of your lips—
Fear it has faded and the night: The bells all peal the hour of nin… The schoolgirls hastening through… Touch the unknowable Divine. What leavening in my heart would b…
On the blue plains in wintry days The stately birds move in the danc… Keen eyes have they, and quaint ol… On the blue plains in wintry days. The Wind, their unseen Piper, pla…
Shyly the silver-hatted mushrooms… Soft entrance through, And undelivered lovers, half awake… Hear noises in the dew Yellow in all the earth and in the…
The young girl stood beside me. I Saw not what her young eyes cou… —A light, she said, not of the sky Lives somewhere in the Orange Tre… —Is it, I said, of east or west?
He has the full moon on his breast… The moonbeams are about hs wing; He has the colours of a king. I see him floating unto rest When all eyes wearily go west,