Though some good folks may take it… As trifling with parsonic frill, Thus saith the Lord to Jim and B… In admonition stern and straight:— Ye hold from Me the brightest zon…

Now the truce of night brings resp… And in listlessness I pace the ri… Where the solitude is wounded by n… But illicit fancy will not be deni… For the darkening flat reiterates…

In spite of his imposing plea, A freeman whom the truth makes fre… Is often fairly up a tree, And marvels why it should be thus. Then reasoning in his tin-pot way

Are you, like me, a peevish brat, With feelings extra-fine? Are you disposed to whip the cat When misadventure lays your flat? Then paste this memo in your hat—

Opposed to Jewish Temple-rites, Strange to the lore of Greece, That message comes from starry hei… A key to lasting Peace. What-e’er our creed, we own its th…

Lincoln is gone—who ruled the Wes… From the Pacific to the Atlantic’… And cold and nerveless lies the mi… That struck the fetters from the n… Lincoln is gone—and now for ever s…

No two leaves that wave in Arden, No two grass blades on the plain, No two flowers that gem the garden… Show as twins in form or vein, No two grains of desert sand

A spectral film that came and went… In its elusive way gave vent In some unreal words which meant; ‘I think therefore I am.’ That phantasm only thought it thou…

Would I were a profit monger, Buying cheap, and selling dear, Groceries, or something stronger, Toys, or pipes, or sporting gear, Wrong, maybe, but ain’t it wronger

(A Romance.) December 11th, 1867. The fleecy clouds had passed away Before the bright approach of day, And now the morning’s radiance shi…

Tell me not in future numbers That our thought becomes inane, That our metre halts and lumbers, When the Wattle blooms again. Lies of great men all remind us

Sing the evil days we see, and the… In such doggerel as dejection will… We are pilgrims, sorrow-led, with… No elysian Up the Country for us… For the settlements extend till th…

O kid! with face of healthy tan, With lunch-bag, books and slate; You needn’t long to be a man, Self-confident and great; For ever since the world began

O Time! Time! Time! Thou wondrous mystery! Within whose rune and rhyme Lies all Man’s history Before Creation’s birth

Deem not this wielder of this pen The happiest bloke alive, For I am only five-foot-ten, And ye are ten-foot-five. Wherefore I clothe myself in jute…