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…

“Call that a yarn!” said old Tom… “What rot! I’ll lay my hat I’ll sling you a yarn worth more n… Such pumped-up yarns as that.” And thereupon old Tommy “slew”

‘this a wonderful time when these… These long ’small hours’ of night, When grass is crisp, and the air i… And the stars come close and brigh… The moon hangs caught in a silvery…

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

On western plain and eastern hill Where once my fancy ranged, The station hands are riding still And they are little changed. But I have lost in London gloom

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.

Across the stony ridges, Across the rolling plain, Young Harry Dale, the drover, Comes riding home again. And well his stock-horse bears him…

So you’ve seen at last what we hav… You have found what we—the People… And Australia’s hymn is swelling… Save your country, Legislators—an… You would put the blame upon us—we…

Ye children of the Land of Gold, I sing a song to you, And if the jokes are somewhat old, The main idea is new. So be it sung, by hut and tent,

There are scenes in the distance w… On the desolate flats where gaunt… Where the brooding old ridge rises… From his dark lonely gullies of st… There are voice-haunted gaps, ever…

It’s oh! for a rivet in marriage b… And a splice in the knot untied— The sanctity of the marriage tie Is growing more sanctified! They’re getting mixed up in societ…

With eyes that are narrowed to pie… To the awful horizons of land, Through the blaze of hot days, and… White heat-waves that flow on the… Through the Never Land westward a…

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

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…

Dust, dust, dust and a dog— Oh! The sheep-dog won’t be last. When the long, long, shadow of the… With the shadow of his mate is cas… A brick-brown woman with the brick…