#AustralianWriters
Man, is the Sea your master? Sea,… This is the song of brave men who… Ceaselessly watching to save you,… Soundly asleep in your state room,… Life is a dream, they tell us, but…
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?…
OH! the folly, the waste, and the… They are seeking a site for a city… Whose love for their ease grows gr… They are seeking a site for a city… In ignorance, deafness, blindness,…
Australia’s a big country An’ Freedom’s humping bluey, An’ Freedom’s on the wallaby Oh! don’t you hear 'er cooey? She’s just begun to boomerang,
There’s such a lot of work to do,… I’m scribbling this against a book… It strikes me that I’ll scribble… And write my last lines so perchan… There’s lots of things to come and…
A cloud of dust on the long white… And the teams go creeping on Inch by inch with the weary load; And by the power of the green-hide… The distant goal is won.
Rolling out to fight for England,… Rolling North to fight for Englan… Fighting hard for France and Engl… Fighting hard for Australasia and… Fighting hard.
THE CROSS-CUT and the crowbar… And make a greenhide rack to fit t… The “done” long-handled shovel and… The crowbar, pick-axe and the “thr… The old patched tent and “fly”, ba…
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…
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…
A son of elder sons I am, Whose boyhood days were cramped an… Through ages of domestic sham And family lies and family cant. Come, elder brothers mine, and bri…
The crescent moon and clock tower… Across the smothered lanes of 'Lo… And in the shadow yonder—like cats… The crowding cabs seem waiting—for… The cab lamps are watching as they…
’Tis no tale of heroism, ’tis no t… But of ordinary boozing, and of du… Of the everlasting friction that m… Tale of nagging and of drinking—an… Name of Jones—perhaps you know hi…
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…
They say that I never have writte… As a writer of songs should do; They say that I never could touch… With a touch that is firm and true… They say I know nothing of women…