#AustralianWriters
So, sit you down in a straight-bac… And cross your knees with your wis… Grown fat and moral apace, old man… In spite of all, I’d as lief be b… They were hard old days; they were…
A public parlour in the slums, The haunt of vice and villainy, Where things are said unfit to hea… And things are done unfit to see; ’Mid ribald jest and reckless song…
The rattling “donkey” ceases, The bell says we must part, You long slab of good-nature, And poetry and art! We’ll miss your smile in Sydney,
I’ve followed all my tracks and wa… I’ve been right back to boyhood’s… But every dream and every track—an… They all lead on, or they lead bac… No sign that green grass ever grew…
This poem is from a short story by Henry Lawson, “Jack Cornstalk”, the first section written especially for the story, with the other sections (interspersed within the rest of the story...
There’s many a schoolboy’s bat and… For he hears a voice in the future… A serious light in his eyes is see… He keeps his kit and his rifle cle… But straight or crooked, or round,…
Did you hear the children singing,… Did you hear the children singing… In the sunshine and the rain, As they’ll never sing again— Hear the little school-girls singi…
Some born of homely parents For ages settled down— The steady generations Of village, farm, and town: And some of dusky fathers
Here’s never a bough to be tossed… For it’s long since the forest was… And round all the trunks of the na… The marks of the death-ring are se… The solemn-faced bear, who had loo…
Where the seasons are divided and… and the links are rather broken in… where the atmosphere is hazy under… lies the little town of Eton, rath… Near the township, in the graveyar…
If I ever be worthy or famous— Which I’m sadly beginning to doub… When the angel whose place ’tis to… Shall say to my spirit, ‘Pass out… I wish for no sniv’lling about me
I’m glad that the Bushmen can’t s… A-doing it tall in the town; I’ve an inch-brimmed hat on my sun… And my collar jumps up and down. I’m wearing a vest that would char…
By the bodies and minds and souls… In the city’s offal-holes, where t… By the prayers that bubble out, bu… We swear the tyrants of earth to r… By the child that sees the light,…
On the moonlighted decks there are… While smoothly the steamer is hold… And the old folks are chatting on… And the lads and the lassies go st… Some gaze half-entranced on the be…
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