The Vagabond (Henry Lawson Poem)
White handkerchiefs wave from the short black pier As we glide to the grand old sea -- But the song ...
White handkerchiefs wave from the short black pier As we glide to the grand old sea -- But the song ...
We hear a great commotion 'Bout the ship that comes to grief, That founders in mid-ocean, Or is driven on ...
It was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea; And the skipper had taken his little daughter, To bear ...
OH, England is a pleasant place for them that 's rich and high; But England is a cruel place for ...
(For Alden March) With drooping sail and pennant That never a wind may reach, They float in sunless waters Beside ...
Where run your colts at pasture? Where hide your mares to breed? 'Mid bergs about the Ice-cap Or wove Sargasso ...
When the Great Ark, in Vigo Bay, Rode stately through the half-manned fleet, From every ship about her way She ...
Hear now the Song of the Dead -- in the North by the torn berg-edges -- They that look still ...
So here's your Empire. No more wine, then? Good. We'll clear the Aides and khitmatgars away. (You'll know that fat ...
We've drunk to the Queen -- God bless her! -- We've drunk to our mothers' land; We've drunk to our ...
There was a strife 'twixt man and maid-- Oh, that was at the birth of time! But what befell 'twixt ...
When, foot to wheel and back to wind, The helmsman dare not look behind, But hears beyond his compass-light, The ...
Our brows are bound with spindrift and the weed is on our knees; Our loins are battered 'neath us by ...
As I look from the isle, o'er its billows of green, To the billows of foam-crested blue, Yon bark, that ...
Whither, O splendid ship, thy white sails crowding, Leaning across the bosom of the urgent West, That fearest nor sea ...
Mamua, when our laughter ends, And hearts and bodies, brown as white, Are dust about the doors of friends, Or ...
We buried old Bob where the bloodwoods wave At the foot of the Eaglehawk; We fashioned a cross on the ...
Ho, a day Whereon we may up and away, With a fetterless wind that is out on the downs, And ...
There's a grayness over the harbor like fear on the face of a woman, The sob of the waves has ...
When the salt wave laps on the long, dim shore, And frets the reef with its windy sallies, And the ...
Lo, find we here when the ripe day is o'er A kingdom of enchantment by the shore! Behold the sky ...
When the sun sets over the long blue wave I spring from my couch of rest, And I hurtle and ...
When the dark comes down, oh, the wind is on the sea With lisping laugh and whimper to the red ...
I I have loved England, dearly and deeply, Since that first morning, shining and pure, The white cliffs of Dover ...
Oh! beautiful Oban with your lovely bay, Your surroundings are magnificent on a fine summer-day; There the lover of the ...
Kind Christians, all pay attention to me, And Miss Mouat's sufferings I'll relate to ye; While on board the Columbine, ...
As I stood upon the sandy beach One morn near Pentland Ferry, I saw a beautiful brigantine, And all her ...
Not soon, as late as the approach of my ninetieth year, I felt a door opening in me and I ...
The Loch Achray was a clipper tall With seven-and-twenty hands in all. Twenty to hand and reef and haul, A ...
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