Read ye here the song as sung By a chief named, briefly, Ung. In the days when arguments were ma… ‘O my people, this my Law Is without defect or flaw,

But what I do object to, and some others more than I, Are the mad old, bad old practices these baubles signify. Good friends, brother Australians and fellow voters; I think that you wil...

Gyved and chained in his father’s… He toiled 'neath a conqueror’s rul… Bowed to the earth in the land of… The Slave who was Son of a Fool. Poor remnant he of a conquered rac…

Golden bird whose golden voice, When the summer days wax long Cheery optimist from choice Bids the feathered world rejoice With full many a varied song

I venerate economists As very learned blokes, But when in paradox they speak Their meaning oft I vainly seek, Suspecting subtle jokes.

Six o’clock. From the railway ya… The engine toots; careering hard, A milk-cart rattles by and stops; A magpie calls from the gum-tree t… The pub 'boots’, sweeping out the…

‘A woman’s work is never done,’ Said she. ‘From dawn to setting of the sun,’ Said she. ‘I toil and moil and work and slav…

Be-wigged and gowned, the Speaker… And his frown was ill to see. ‘Oddsfish!’ he spake, ‘Do I mista… Stands ’And’ where 'Or’ should be… Be such the case, this land’s disg…

It is truly as lucid as lucid can… It is plain as the nose on your fa… Though the tactics may be a disgra… The tactician is not a disgrace. He may wobble and swerve and crayf…

It knocks me can in, this ere game… A bloke gets born, grows up, looks… Dreams dilly dreams, then wakes to… An’ fambly round ‘im - all ’is you… An’, gazin’ back, sees in 'is yout…

The quiet country doctors Of many a country town, Whose lives are spent to service b… With scant hope of renown Those sturdy country doctors,

The cattle-lands of Corryong, The maiden of the snows (Where silver streams the winter l… Sing pleasantly their tinkling son… Not many a town man knows.

Day after day, week after burning… A ruthless sun has sucked the fore… Morn after anxious morn men’s glan… The hills, hard-etched against a h… Gay blossoms droop and die.

I knew a careful lady once Who read a book by Dr. Bunce, A wise authority on wogs That roam about in dust and fogs; Indeed, he pointed out, all air,

’Tis morn. An individualistic cock Proclaims the fact. The dissipated cat sneaks home for… ’Tis time to get up and act!