Aw, I’m sick o’ the whole darn hu… An’ I’m sick o’ this mundane ball… I’m sick o’ the sight o’ me brothe… An’ his works an’ talk an’ all; I’m sick o’ the silly sounds I he…

‘E wears perjarmer soots an’ clean… That’s wot I reads. It fairly kn… ‘Me soljer cobber, be the name o’… Well, if that ain’t the limit, str… The sort that Ginger Mick would t…

We have heard it. Oft we heard i… In whatever fields we practise, ar… Ever praise for the performance, s… From who would extol the action ye… Thus, in painting, think how often…

There’s a bleak, black world witho… And the rain falls fast; And the wind, with a whine and a s… Blows buffeting past To wail thro’ the tortured trees,

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,

Not for any airs and graces When, to lonely, silent places Men return in memory, Come these kindly thoughts of me. But they hear again my calling

For, even in the most altruistic mood, there are some I bar.) Workers, shirkers, writers, skiters, philosophers and others, Of the class that habitually looketh even beyond its nose. To...

She knows the Mallee’s tragedy Of thwarted hope, of pain, Of promise wrecked, when weak men… And strong men pray in vain; While day on burning day drifts by

Oh, this is the week when no rhyms… On the joy of the bush or the ills… Nor pour out his soul in delectabl… Of women and wine and the lure the… Nor pen philosophic if foolish dis…

Spring surely must be near. High… The kind blue heavens bend to timb… And here, this morning, is the pic… That I have learned to love the b… I hear Flame Robin call

‘The backbone of the country and t… That was how they styled us when t… But what’s his valuation now, when… Chorus: Two bob a dozen, an’ the garments…

Sweet, think how much the better i… If you thro’ life should thus pres… It really doesn’t matter much to m… But don’t you think you owe the wo… And don’t you think that thro’ som…

I said goodbye to the bees last F… To blooms, and to things like thes… Was shouting loud from the hills,… His gossamer net that fills frail… So I said goodbye to the bees; fo…

Come, let us sing with a right goo… (Sing hey for lifting lay, sing he… Of any old, sunny old, silly old t… (Sing ho for the ballad of a backb… The sun shone brightly overhead,

Now, who in the world can understa… Since Tyranny, Freedom’s whittler… And the strong-arm band of the Ir… Go hitting it up with Hitler, Who can pretend to comprehend