#Australians
Could I borrow the laverock’s lif… Or the silvery song from the black… Then would I warble the whole day… Telling, in floods of passionate s… How worlds might tremble, or skies…
Oh! the quiet river-crossing Where we twain were wont to ride, Where the wanton winds were to sin… Willow branches o’er the tide. There the golden noon would find u…
In prison cell I sadly sit, A d__d crest-fallen chappie! And own to you I feel a bit– A little bit - unhappy! It really ain’t the place nor time
Ancient, wrinkled dames and jealou… They whom joyless Age downcasts - And the sere, gray-bearded fellows Who would fain re—live their pasts… These, the ancients, grimly tell u…
When the last rousing gallop is en… And the last post-and-rall has bee… And a cracked neck that cannot be… Shall have under the yew-tree been… Just you leave him alone-in God’s…
Three droving men, some three week… Sat drinking the Queensland rum; ’Twas four a.m. when twa o’ them Saw jock M’Phee succumb. Hech! they were giddy songs he’d s…
The sun may shine, the rain may fa… And the world roll round about, - The king’s men and king’s horses a… Can never rub one thing out. Skies may darken– clouds will flit…
Now, all the world is green and br… Outside the latticed pane; The fields are decked with gold an… And Spring has come again. But though the world be fair witho…
Athwart the star-lit midnight sky Luminous fleecy clouds drift by, As the mysterious, pallid moon Sinks in the waveless still lagoon… Now that the queen of night is dea…
The world around is sleeping, The stars are bright o’erhead, The shades of myalls weeping Upon the sward are spread; Among the gloomy pinetops
Ah, Jack! Time finds us feeble m… And all too swift our years have f… The days are different now to then… In that time when we rode ten ston… The minstrel when his mem’ry goes
They are mustering cattle on Brig… Where the stock-horses whinny and… And where long Andy Ferguson, you… Is yet boss on a cutting-out camp. Half the duffers I met would not…
A dandy old horsernan is Brigalow… Which his name, sir, is Michael O… Whatever he’s riding, when timber… He is always in front of the crowd… A few tangled locks that are fast…
Never before was daughter of Eve… There be none of God’s holy angel… As thine, nor dreamer has ever dre… There’s a gleam in your golden tre… There is witchery in your smile,…
Trapping brumbies in the moonlight… ‘Way back on Campbell’s country -… When saddled up and ready qur impa… While we squatted in the gunyah wi… And presently the hoof-beats of th…
