#AustralianWriters
A spectral film that came and went… In its elusive way gave vent In some unreal words which meant; ‘I think therefore I am.’ That phantasm only thought it thou…
Opposed to Jewish Temple-rites, Strange to the lore of Greece, That message comes from starry hei… A key to lasting Peace. What-e’er our creed, we own its th…
Life is a Poem, short or long, A dismal Dirge, or jovial Song, A Psalm of faith, or Lay of Prid… One stanza by each year supplied. And thy sweet Hymn of love and tr…
When the great Creator fashion’d… He commission’d us to dominate the… But His ordinance meets denial st… For the Boer is always with us, c… Yet the Lord has given us grace t…
(From ‘An Idyll of the Wimmera.’… On the geodetic line, where the pa… At a level and interminable lane You can see it there, alone, stand… Like an iceberg in a solitary main…
Johnny’s drowned ' here’s his cl… Where he’s got to, we dunno; Sure enough, he never rose; So we thought we’d let you know. Gosh! the fright has knocked us fl…
Tell me not in future numbers That our thought becomes inane, That our metre halts and lumbers, When the Wattle blooms again. Lies of great men all remind us
A gentle loving thoughtful boy, But happy gay and bright: A gleam of sunshine from the sky That filled a home with light. And whether busied with his play
Nurse your ‘unconquerable soul,’ But diligently bear in mind That Life is not a wayward stroll… For Circumstance asserts control, And fiercely prods you up behind.
Are you, like me, a peevish brat, With feelings extra-fine? Are you disposed to whip the cat When misadventure lays your flat? Then paste this memo in your hat—
You argue ' as sympathy governs… That Wisdom distributes the capon… Indulging the sinful, and stinting… Or starving the wicked, and fatten… You are wrong to the Evil One; he…
Sing the evil days we see, and the… In such doggerel as dejection will… We are pilgrims, sorrow-led, with… No elysian Up the Country for us… For the settlements extend till th…
In spite of his imposing plea, A freeman whom the truth makes fre… Is often fairly up a tree, And marvels why it should be thus. Then reasoning in his tin-pot way
“Are you the Cove?” He spoke the… As freeman only can. The squatter freezingly inquir’d, “What do you mean, my man?” “Are you the Cove?” His voice was…
Though some good folks may take it… As trifling with parsonic frill, Thus saith the Lord to Jim and B… In admonition stern and straight:— Ye hold from Me the brightest zon…