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…

Whenever I’m moving my furniture… Or shifting my furniture out— Which is nearly as often and risky… In these days of shifting about— There isn’t a stretcher, there isn…

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…

I met Jack Ellis in town to-day— Jack Ellis—my old mate, Jack— Ten years ago, from the Castlerea… We carried our swags together away To the Never-Again, Out Back.

Black Scots and red Scots, Red Scots and black; I hae dealt wi’ the red Scot, An’ dealt wi’ the black. The Red Scot is angry

While tyrants rule the land, Beneath the Irish skies; While e’er the iron hand Upon our people lies; While sons are driven forth

I long for the streets but the Lo… For there I am never a saint; There are lovable characters out i… With humour heroic and quaint; And, be it Up Country, or be it…

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…

The camp of high-class spielers, Who sneered in summer dress, And doo-dah dilettante, And scornful “venuses”— House agents, and storekeepers,

When you see a man come walking do… Suit of saddle tweed and soft shir… With the careless swing and carria… There is freedom in Australia! he… Clingin’ back,

She sits beside the tinted tide, That’s reddened by the tortured sa… And through the East, to ocean wi… A vessel sails from sight of land. But she will wait and watch in vai…

Three bushmen one morning rode up… And one of them called for the dri… They’d only returned from a trip t… And, eager to greet them, the land… He absently poured out a glass of…

In these days of peace and money,… There are ancient dames in Buckla… Wedding rings of steel and iron, w… And the wearers would not give the… In the days of black oppression, w…

Sing the strong, proud song of La… Toss the ringing music high; Liberty’s a nearer neighbour Than she was in days gone by. Workmen’s weary wives and daughter…

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…