#AustralianWriters
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
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—
Deem not this wielder of this pen The happiest bloke alive, For I am only five-foot-ten, And ye are ten-foot-five. Wherefore I clothe myself in jute…
Lincoln is gone ' who ruled the… From the Pacific to the Atlantic’… And cold and nerveless lies the mi… That struck the fetters from the n… Lincoln is gone ' and now for ev…
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…
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…
While changing Seasons run their… Controlled and guided from above, It is thy part to re-enforce The broadening stream of Light an…
“Prove what Life can give of glad… Seek for aught that merits trust— All thy mirth will turn to sadness… All thy bliss to cold disgust. Soon revolving years will banish
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…
(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…
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
No two leaves that wave in Arden, No two grass blades on the plain, No two flowers that gem the garden… Show as twins in form or vein, No two grains of desert sand
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…
“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…
O kid! with face of healthy tan, With lunch-bag, books and slate; You needn’t long to be a man, Self-confident and great; For ever since the world began