The Celt’s Paradise. Fourth Duan (John Banim Poems)
And yet beneath that happy sky,Was heard one ever--during sigh,One heart of sadness there was known,One voice of sorrow wept ...
And yet beneath that happy sky,Was heard one ever--during sigh,One heart of sadness there was known,One voice of sorrow wept ...
There'll be royal times in Sydney for the Cuff and Collar Push, There'll be lots of dreary drivel and clap-trapFrom the ...
Some born of homely parents For ages settled down-The steady generations Of village, farm, and town:And some of dusky fathers Who wandered since ...
A Rouseabout of rouseabouts, from any land-or none-I bear a nick-name of the bush, and I'm-a woman's son;I came from ...
Far back in the days when the blacks used to ramble In long single file 'neath the evergreen tree,The wool-teams in ...
'Tis a yarn I heard of a new-chum 'trap' On the edge of the Never-Never,Where the dead men lie and the ...
SPRING house-cleaning in Arcadie, When every bough is bare;'If it bring Wendy back to me, 'I wish,' quoth Pan, ' 'twere here.'For ...
By hut, homestead and shearing shed,By railroad, coach and track-By lonely graves where rest the dead,Up-Country and Out-Back:To where beneath ...
By hut, homestead and shearing shed,By railroad, coach and track-By lonely graves where rest the dead,Up-Country and Out-Back:To where beneath ...
Things is just the same as everOn the outer Never-Never,And you look to find the stock of liquor scanty,But we ...
In different clearness of rays,In addling amalgam of visionsWe always live in world's things' reignWith its triad of space division.And ...
And this will be all?And the gates will never open again?And the dust and the wind will play around the ...
Our Skeeta was married, our Skeeta! the tomboy and pet of the ...
Sons of freedom! break your slumbersThe day of glory's drawing nigh,Against us tyranny's red numbersRear their bloody banner high. ...
In every little country place, all up and down the land,From ageing cradles of the race to Never-Never Land --From ...
I looked into my heart to write And found a desert there.But when I looked again I heardHowling and ...
You almost heard the surface bake, and saw the gum-leaves turn -- You could have watched the grass scorch brown ...
By homestead, hut, and shearing-shed, By railroad, coach, and track -- By lonely graves of our brave dead, Up-Country and ...
There's no sense in going further -- it's the edge of cultivation," So they said, and I believed it -- ...
The Wanderlust has lured me to the seven lonely seas, Has dumped me on the tailing-piles of dearth; The Wanderlust ...
AND this will be all? And the gates will never open again? And the dust and the wind will play ...
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