Each poet that I know (he said) Has something funny in his head, Some wandering growth or queer dis… That gives to him strange unease. If such a thing he hasn’t got,

Oh, what a pleasant game is life When we are bravely batting And glorying in skill and strife. We scorn defensive patting As Fate sends down the easy ones

The diggers came from Bendigo, From Albury the drovers, From where the Goulburn waters fl… Came bearded teamsters travelling… And all the brown bush rovers;

I’m standin’ at the corner uv the… The Land called Spadgers - waitin… The night’s come chilly, an’ a dri… Falls steady where a near-by stree… A gashly yeller light on stones al…

King of all the old town, gaoler,… Bane of heavy sinners doing things… Terror of the cattle-duffers in th… Keeping watch on criminals, cautio… On those brief hours, in old days,…

It was thus in the beginning: Wit… Jones contested an election years… He was young, enthusiastic, and ma… Were imperative to save the land f… For the laudable admiration of thi…

Contributions are invited to this… They must not be too solemn. And, say: They Must not be TOO gay?

No longer wilful woman hides Behind a law that over-rides The dicta of her lawful lord and m… And, they who fain would lift a ha… To erring wives, now understand

Where the sunlight, burning down, Lights her luscious orange groves, Lights the river and the town; Where the placid Murray roves; Where each shining summer gives

Aha! Beware! I know your guilty p… I was a witness of that secret cri… One word! and all your fondest hop… I bide me time. I hold you in me grip, unhappy man…

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…

What’s the use? Give it best; Cut her loose; Have a rest. Hope is dead;

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.

Up and down the roads they go Vale to hill, and hill to vale Leading on to Omeo Over many an olden trail Dainty lady of the hills,

My natal day was yesterday; And so I said to Fate, ‘What gifts bring you, by one, by… To ease my parlous state?’ ‘I proffer blindly,’ Fate replied…