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,

They were men of many nations, the… They were men in many places, and… Men of many types and faces, but,… They were men I met in trouble, a… Some were friends, but most were s…

Some born of homely parents For ages settled down— The steady generations Of village, farm, and town: And some of dusky fathers

The breezes waved the silver grass… Waist-high along the siding, And to the creek we ne’er could pa… Three boys on bare-back riding; Beneath the sheoaks in the bend

Only one old post is standing— Solid yet, but only one— Where the milking, and the brandin… And the slaughtering were done. Later years have brought dejection…

They’re shifting old North Sydney… Perhaps ’tis just as well— They’re carting off the houses Where the old folks used to dwell. Where only ghosts inhabit

Old time is tramping close to-day—… A mighty change is on the way, an’… Some dust’ll fly from beery coats—… I’m glad that wimin has the votes—… I’m just a trifle scared—For why?…

’Tis strange on such a peaceful da… With white clouds flying o’er, That foreign boats are in the bay As prisoners of war. The Harbour, where they quietly l…

The Lady of the Motor Car she st… Her face is like the stone, my fri… Her face is like the stone, my fri… Because her heart is dead, my frie… The Lady of the Motor Car she sp…

The short hour’s halt is ended, The red gone from the west, The broken wheel is mended, And the dead men laid to rest. Three days have we retreated

NOW, Yankee inventors can beat a… And German professors may take a… For their colours we’re going to l… They’ve invented a wonderful ploug… The scientists call it “the latest…

The Channel fog has lifted— And see where we have come! Round all the world we’ve drifted, A hundred years from ‘home.’ The fields our parents longed for—

They’d parted but a year before—sh… She stammer’d, blushed, held out h… How could he know that all the whi… He called her ‘Miss le Brook,’ an… They’d parted but a year before; t…

It is stuffy in the steerage where… For there’s near a hundred for’ard… They are trav’lers for the most pa… But their linen’s rather scanty, a… Stowed away like ewes and wethers…

So I sit and write and ponder, wh… Seeing visions “over yonder” of th… In the corner– not a vision– but a… Stand a box of ammunition and a ri… And in this, the living present, l…