On the Wallaby (Henry Lawson Poem)
Now the tent poles are rotting, the camp fires are dead, And the possums may gambol in trees overhead; I ...
Now the tent poles are rotting, the camp fires are dead, And the possums may gambol in trees overhead; I ...
Roll up, Eureka's heroes, on that grand Old Rush afar, For Lalor's gone to join you in the big camp ...
The radiance of the star that leans on me Was shining years ago. The light that now Glitters up there ...
"Tout aux tavernes et aux filles." Suppose you screeve? or go cheap-jack? Or fake the broads? or fig a nag? ...
Green little vaulter in the sunny grass, Catching your heart up at the feel of June, Sole voice that's heard ...
Part I It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. 'By thy long grey beard and glittering ...
Unfunny uncles who insist in trying on a lady's hat, --oh, even if the joke falls flat, we share your ...
O THOU! whatever title suit thee- Auld Hornie, Satan, Nick, or Clootie, Wha in yon cavern grim an' sootie, Clos'd ...
Now, scarce three paces measured from the mound, We stumbled on a stationary voice, And 'Stand, who goes?' 'Two from ...
Glad as the weary traveller tempest-tost To reach secure at length his native coast, Who wandering long o'er distant lands ...
Now hardly here and there a hackney-coach Appearing, show'd the ruddy morn's approach. Now Betty from her master's bed had ...
Behold! the Spanish flag they're raising Before the Palace courtyard gate; To watch its progress bold and blazing Two hundred ...
I cannot flap a flag Or beat a drum; Behind the mob I lag With larynx dumb; Alas! I fear ...
A prisoner speaks: Majority of twenty-three, I face the Judge with joy and glee; For am I not a lucky ...
My Louis loved me oh so well And spiered me for his wife; He would have haled me from the ...
Deeming that I were better dead, "How shall I kill myself?" I said. Thus mooning by the river Seine I ...
The air heaving like a wounded fish, breathing through its purplish sandy gills, letting in the salty gale, fluttering its ...
In a lone valley fair and far, Where many sweet beguilements are, I know a spot to lag and dream ...
Mean while the heinous and despiteful act Of Satan, done in Paradise; and how He, in the serpent, had perverted ...
I I hate this yoke; for the world's sake here put it on: Knowing 'twill weigh as much on you ...
It was three slim does and a ten-tined buck in the bracken lay; And all of a sudden the sinister ...
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