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 ...
It was pleasant up the country, City Bushman, where you went, For you sought the greener patches and you travelled ...
The night too quickly passes And we are growing old, So let us fill our glasses And toast the Days ...
We talked of yesteryears, of trails and treasure, Of men who played the game and lost or won; Of mad ...
I There was Claw-fingered Kitty and Windy Ike living the life of shame, When unto them in the Long, Long ...
In the moonless, misty night, with my little pipe alight, I am sitting by the camp-fire's fading cheer; Oh, the ...
"Black is the sky, but the land is white-- (O the wind, the snow and the storm!)-- Father, where is ...
I'm scared of it all, God's truth! so I am; It's too big and brutal for me. My nerve's on ...
The lone man gazed and gazed upon his gold, His sweat, his blood, the wage of weary days; But now ...
Ye who know the Lone Trail fain would follow it, Though it lead to glory or the darkness of the ...
Men of the High North, the wild sky is blazing; Islands of opal float on silver seas; Swift splendors kindle, ...
Now Fireman Flynn met Hank the Finn where lights of Lust-land glow; "Let's leave," says he, "the lousy sea, and ...
There's a four-pronged buck a-swinging in the shadow of my cabin, And it roamed the velvet valley till to-day; But ...
Heed me, feed me, I am hungry, I am red-tongued with desire; Boughs of balsam, slabs of cedar, gummy fagots ...
He was an old prospector with a vision bleared and dim. He asked me for a grubstake, and the same ...
Light up your pipe again, old chum, and sit awhile with me; I've got to watch the bannock bake -- ...
This is the tale that was told to me by the man with the crystal eye, As I smoked my ...
The waves have a story to tell me, As I lie on the lonely beach; Chanting aloft in the pine-tops, ...
So you're back from up the country, Mister Lawson, where you went, And you're cursing all the business in a ...
The drought is down on field and flock, The river-bed is dry; And we must shift the starving stock Before ...
WHERE now the huts are empty, Where never a camp-fire glows, In an abandoned cañon, A Gambler's Ghost arose. He ...
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