#Australians
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…
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 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…
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…
Ragged, unheeded, stooping, meanly… The poor pass to the pond: not far… The spires go up to God. Shyly they come from the unpainted… Coats have they made of old unhapp…
YOU, AND YELLOW AIR by Jo… I dream of an old kissing-time And the flowered follies there; In the dim place of cherry-trees, Of you, and yellow air.
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,
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…
ALL singers have shadows That follow like fears, But I know a singer Who never saw tears; A gay love—a green love—
When you go underground with all y… Your kindly lies and your ridiculo… You shall not ever fear to face ag… The strong man’s rage, the woman w… Nor song nor sigh will beat upon y…
O HEART of Spring! Spirit of light and love and joyou… So soon to faint beneath the fiery… Still smiles the Earth, eager for… Welcome art thou, soever short thy…
Three women walked upon a road, And the first said airily, “Of all the trees in all the world Which is the loving tree?” The second said, “My eyes have se…
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…
Beauty imposes reverence in the S… Grave as the urge within the honey… It wounds us as we sing. Beauty is joy that stays not overl… Clad in the magic of sincerities,
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—