#AustralianWriters
Today, in class, I read aloud to forty little boys The legend of King Croesus’ boast… They were so young, Restless, and eager, I believed t…
He had served eighty masters. The… He 'worked for these employers’ to… And they, if they had heard him, w… To brand him inefficient whom they… For to know eighty masters is to k…
My darling lies down in her soft w… And she laughs at me. Her laughter has flushed her pale… Her eyes dance with glee. My darling lies close in her warm…
He’s out of work! I tell myself a change should mean… And he must look for changes to ad… And he, of all men, really needs a… But I hate change.
Once I thought my love was worth… If tears came. When the wound is mortal, now I k… Few tears flow.
They are so glad of a young compan… They hail and bless me, these boys… And I whose pathway was dark and… Have no more need of the sun to sh… We’ll walk in darkness, obscure, d…
And is love very strong where hono… Would the world ever speak of Lan… Or Tristram’s love had they put h… What would you think if Guinevere… And begged for kisses and had begg…
At ten o’clock the great gong soun… Prelude to splendour. I push back… And all the people leave their boo… Still acquiescent, down the marble… Into the dark where we can’t read.…
She is not of the fireside, My lovely love; Nor books, nor even a cradle, She bends above. No, she is bent with lashes,
When I am making poetry I’m good And happy then. I live in a deep world of angelhoo… Afar from men. And all the great and bright and f…
A bunch of lilac and a storm of ha… On the same afternoon! Indeed I k… Here in the South it always happe… That lilac is companioned by the g… I took some hailstones from the wi…
Sometimes I think the happiest of… Is the blest moment of release fro… The world once more is all one’s o… Upon one’s own and not another’s p… And each poor heart imprisoned by…
Beauty does not walk through lovel… Beauty walks with horror in her ha… Down long centuries of pleasant wa… Men have found the terrible most f… Youth is lovelier in death than li…
She has all Ireland in her blood, All Ireland’s need of sword and t… With memories dim before the flood… And conflicts of a thousand years. No son of Italy should love
Sometimes I wish that I were Hel… And wise as Pallas, That I might have most royal gift… In love’s sweet chalice. Then I reflect my dear love is no…