If they missed my face in Farmers… When the landlord lit the lamp, They would grin and say in their c… 'Oh! he’s down at the Gipsy camp!… But they’d read of things in the…

They proved we could not think nor… They proved we could not write, They proved we drank the day away And raved through half the night. They proved our stars were never u…

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…

To a town in Southern land Light of purse I come and lone; And I pause awhile, and stand By a pedestal of stone; And I bend my head and bow

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…

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…

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…

Did you see that man riding past, With shoulders bowed with care? There’s failure in his eyes to las… And in his heart despair. He seldom looks to left or right,

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,…

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…

Day of ending for beginnings! Ocean hath another innings, Ocean hath another score; And the surges sing his winnings, And the surges shout his winnings,

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…

John Cornstalk lives in the South… What says Cornstalk John? Jack Cornstalk says in a loud fir… “Land of the South, lead on.” CHORUS:

Set me back for twenty summers— For I’m tired of cities now— Set my feet in red-soil furrows And my hands upon the plough, With the two 'Black Brothers’ tru…

When you get tight in foreign land… You never need go slinking, No female neighbours lift their ha… And say “The brute!—he’s drinking… No mischief-maker runs with smiles