#AustralianWriters
A tall, slight, English gentleman… With an eyeglass to his eye; He mostly says “Good-Bai” to you, When he means to say “Good-bye”; He shakes hands like a ladies’ man…
Jim Duff was a ‘native,’as wild a… A stealer and duffer of cattle was… But back in his youth he had stole… Or a diamond rather—the heart of a… She served with a squatter who liv…
The kangaroo was formed to run, but not from man alone - it ran before the horse or gun or native dog was known. It ran when drought left waterhole…
Macquarie the shearer had met with an accident. To tell the truth, he had been in a drunken row at a wayside shanty, from which he had escaped with three fractured ribs, a cracked head,...
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…
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…
They have eaten their fill at your… Like friends since the land was wo… And they rise with a cry of “Aust… With the wheeze of “Australia’s d… Oh, the theme is stale, but they t…
His old clay pipe stuck in his mou… His hat pushed from his brow, His dress best fitted for the Sou… I think I see him now; And when the city streets are stil…
Because he had sinned and suffered… And because of his wonderful sympa… Born and bred of the people, he kn… And because he had struggled throu… Speaker and leader and poet, tall…
It was a week from Christmas-time… As near as I remember, And half a year since, in the rear… We’d left the Darling timber. The track was hot and more than dr…
No church-bell rings them from the… No pulpit lights theirblindness— 'Tis hardship, drought, and homele… That teach those Bushmen kindness… The mateship born, in barren lands…
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…
I took the book of punishment, And ran its columns down; I started with an open brow And ended with a frown; I noted long-forgotten names –
They cheered him from the wharf—it… His hand went to his scarf—his tho… Oh, he was “Jolly Good”, they san… The money lender stood unknown amo… He’d taken him aside, while trembl…
There’s a class of men (and women)… Cunning, treacherous, suspicious—f… Brainy, yet without the courage to… Cautiously they feel their way beh… If you save a bit of money, and yo…
