#AustralianWriters
I notice in “Answers to Correspondents” that the Bulletin has no sympathy for, or can’t understand the poet bloke that wishes to be buried at sea. I don’t wish to be buried anywhere jus...
The camp of high-class spielers, Who sneered in summer dress, And doo-dah dilettante, And scornful “venuses”— House agents, and storekeepers,
They lie, the men who tell us for… That want is here a stranger, and… For where the nearest suburb and t… My window-sill is level with the f… Drifting past, drifting past,
The motor car is sullen, like a th… The motor car is master of Smart… ’Twas born of sweated genius and c… ’Twas planned by Retribution to r… And straight for Caesar’s Column,
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…
We set no right above hers, No earthly light nor star, She hath had many lovers, But not as lovers are: They all were gallant fellows
It was somewhere in September, an… When I came, in search of 'copy’,… 'Come-and-have-a-drink’ we’ll call… And ‘twas raining, for a wonder, u… ’Neath the public-house verandah…
TWO COUPLES are drifting the… (Men of the world know well) From the ballroom glare as the nig… (Men of the world can tell). Many are round them who know, and…
On the Track of Grand Endeavour,… Past the Turn-Back, and past How… Past old Bullock-Yoke and Bog Fl… Lies the camp that we have christe… We were young and strong and fearl…
When you’ve got no chance at all, Take it fightin’. When you’re driven to the wall, Take it fightin’. There are things that we delight i…
Fire lighted; on the table a meal… A lantern in the stable; a jingle… The mail-coach looming darkly by l… The growl of sleepy voices; a cand… A stumble in the passage of folk w…
He was lengthsman on the railway,… That “pre-eminence in sorrow” of t… But as dear to him and precious we… Were the workman’s little daughter… Speak their names in tones that li…
The men who camp with Danger Are mostly quiet men: And one may use a rifle, And one may use a pen, And one may strap a camera
Oh, Scotty, have you visited the… And did you see the portraits of t… The portraits made by Longstaff,… Of the King and Queen and Lawson… The King is robed in royal state,…
Dust and smoke against the sunrise… And a broken sky-line looming like… And a trot, trot, trot and canter… It is General Greybeard Shrapnel… And the scarecrows from the trench…
