Ben Boyd’s Tower is watching— Watching o’er the sea; Ben Boyd’s Tower is waiting For her and me. We do not know the day,

The wireless tells and the cable t… How our boys behaved by the Darda… Some thought in their hearts “Wil… We knew them of old and we knew th… Knew they would—

At a point where the old road cros… The river, and turns to the right, I’d camped with the team; and the… Was all fixed up for the night. I’d been to the town to carry

LET the liar call me liar, And the robber call me thief. They can only fan the fire That is born of my belief. While I’m speaking, while I’m wri…

When you’ve knocked about the coun… When the past, by distance softene… You are haunted oft, wherever or h… By a fancy that you ought to go an… You forget the family quarrels—lit…

The squatter saw his pastures wide Decrease, as one by one The farmers moving to the west Selected on his run; Selectors took the water up

Out there by the rocks, at the end… In the mouth of the river, the Wa… She is resting where meet the blue… And only her masts and her funnel… And you see, when is fading the su…

Wide solemn eyes that question me, Wee hand that pats my head— Where only two have stroked before… And both of them are dead. ‘Ah, poo-ah Daddy mine,’ she says…

When first I came to town, resolv… To fight my way alone, No prouder foot than mine e’er tro… Upon the pavement stone; But I am one in thousands,

Who’s that mysterious rider, Full-sized, yet far away, Seen by the Western-sider— A spectre of the day? On ridge or seeming high line

When at first in foreign parts Was her flag unfurled, England was a Gipsy lass Peddling round the world. Sailing on the Spanish Main—

It was the King of Virland— O he was angry then— That rode to crush rebellion With twenty thousand men. His enemies he scattered

I Looked upon the lilies When the morning sun was low, And the sun shone through a lily With a softened honey glow. A spot was in the lily

I have sinned, like others, blindl… And my best friends say it kindly,… Shall I fly the paltry spirit of… While the battle-drums are beating… Down the street where all men know…

I long for the streets but the Lo… For there I am never a saint; There are lovable characters out i… With humour heroic and quaint; And, be it Up Country, or be it…