#AustralianWriters
I dare not leave the splendid town To go where morning meadows are, For somewhere here the Future’s h… In factory, shop, or liquor bar. And when the picture shows are clo…
He has a fairy wife. He does not know her. She is the heart of the storm, Of the clouds that lower. And as the clouds are torn
My window pane is broken Just a bit Where the small curtain doesn’t Cover it. And in the afternoon
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…
Today is rebels’ day. And yet we… All of us rebels, until day is don… And when the stars come out we cel… A revolution that’s not yet begun. Today is rebels’ day. And men in…
One summer day, along the street, Men pruned the gums To make them neat. The tender branches, white with fl… Lay in the sun
He looks in my heart and the image… Is himself, himself, than himself… And he thinks of my heart as a mir… To reflect the image I hold most… But my heart is much more like a s…
Though I had lost my love, The hills could calm me. Deep in a woodland grove No loss could harm me. But when I came to town,
I dreamt last night of happy home-… Friends I had loved and had belie… Came happily to visit me and said I was a part of their fair home-co… It’s strange that I should dream…
Today I saw A market cart going along the road… High-piled and creaking with a son… Of cabbages. The driver sat
I do hate the folk I love– They hurt so. Their least word and act may be Source of woe. ‘Won’t you come to tea with me?’
Last night, in a dream, I felt th… Known to me of old; And there passed me, not much chan… Smiling, suffering, cold. This morning, I lay with closed l…
When I go into town at half past… Great crowds of people stream acro… Hurrying, although it’s only half… They are the invisible people of t… When you go in to town about eleve…
‘I used to have dozens of handkerc… Of finest lawn. I used to have silk shirts and fin… He’s like a faun This darling out-at-elbows Irish…
Across the sea Come homeward ships With freight of boys. And still must we Forgo the joys