#AustralianWriters
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…
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.
While changing Seasons run their… Controlled and guided from above, It is thy part to re-enforce The broadening stream of Light an…
(A Romance.) December 11th, 1867. The fleecy clouds had passed away Before the bright approach of day, And now the morning’s radiance shi…
“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
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…
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…
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
(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…
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…
Would I were a profit monger, Buying cheap, and selling dear, Groceries, or something stronger, Toys, or pipes, or sporting gear, Wrong, maybe, but ain’t it wronger
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…
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, 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—