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

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…

Now the truce of night brings resp… And in listlessness I pace the ri… Where the solitude is wounded by n… But illicit fancy will not be deni… For the darkening flat reiterates…

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—

Johnny’s drowned—here’s his clo’es 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…

(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…

(A Romance.) December 11th, 1867. The fleecy clouds had passed away Before the bright approach of day, And now the morning’s radiance shi…

O Time! Time! Time! Thou wondrous mystery! Within whose rune and rhyme Lies all Man’s history Before Creation’s birth

You argue—as sympathy governs your… That Wisdom distributes the capon… Indulging the sinful, and stinting… Or starving the wicked, and fatten… You are wrong to the Evil One; he…

Lincoln is gone—who ruled the Wes… 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 ever s…

“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

“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…

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

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