The Grog-an’Grumble Steeplechase (Henry Lawson Poems)
'Twixt the coastline and the border lay the town of Grog-an'-Grumble In the days before the bushman was a dull ...
'Twixt the coastline and the border lay the town of Grog-an'-Grumble In the days before the bushman was a dull ...
He had offices in Sydney, not so many years ago, And his shingle bore the legend `Peter Anderson and Co.', ...
His old clay pipe stuck in his mouth, His hat pushed from his brow, His dress best fitted for the ...
I met Jack Ellis in town to-day -- Jack Ellis -- my old mate, Jack -- Ten years ago, from ...
It was pleasant up the country, City Bushman, where you went, For you sought the greener patches and you travelled ...
He'd been for years in Sydney "a-acting of the goat", His name was Joseph Swallow, "the Great Australian Pote", In ...
'T was Fultah Fisher's boarding-house, Where sailor-men reside, And there were men of all the ports From Mississip to Clyde, ...
I He would drink by himself And raise a weathered thumb Towards the high shelf, Calling another rum And blackcurrant, ...
A hole in the wall shop, Counter and seller Plastic cups and pitchers A bit of rum, a bunch of ...
The Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat: If you offer him pheasant he would rather have grouse. If you ...
my mother pushed my sister out of the apartment door with an empty suitcase because she kept threatening to run ...
The Popular Heart is a Cannon first -- Subsequent a Drum -- Bells for an Auxiliary And an Afterward of ...
"Why shouldn't I have a purely vegetarian drink? Why shouldn't I take vegetables in their highest form, so to speak? ...
Under the table, no. That last was stunning, that flagon had breasts. Some men grow down cursed. Why drink so, ...
Noises from underground made gibber some others collected & dug henry up saying 'You are a sight.' Chilly, he muttered ...
Now ye gallant Sydney boys, who have left your household joys To march across the sea in search of glory, ...
My Uncle Bill! My Uncle Bill! How doth my heart with anguish thrill! For he, our chief, our Robin Hood, ...
On Western plains, where shade is not, 'Neath summer skies of cloudless blue, Where all is dry and all is ...
It was the lunatic poet escaped from the local asylum, Loudly he twanged on his banjo and sang with his ...
Once upon a time there was an Italian, And some people thought he was a rapscallion, But he wasn't offended, ...
I, too, have trailed my father's spirit From the mud-walled cabin behind the mountain Where he was born and bred, ...
All hail to Mr Murphy, he is a hero brave, That has crossed the mighty Atlantic wave, For what purpose ...
Kind Christians, pray list to me, And I'll relate a sad story, Concerning a little blind girl, only nine years ...
Oh, thou demon Drink, thou fell destroyer; Thou curse of society, and its greatest annoyer. What hast thou done to ...
In a little town in Devonshire, in the mellow September moonlight, A gentleman passing along a street saw a pitiful ...
'Twas on the 8th of January 1881, That a terrific gale along the English Channel ran, And spread death and ...
Bix to Buxtehude to Boulez, The little white dog on the Victor label Listens long and hard as he is ...
Let us not talk philosophy, drop it, Jeanne. So many words, so much paper, who can stand it. I told ...
OH some are fond of red wine, and some are fond of white, And some are all for dancing by ...
[The late Mr. Jonathan Swift Somers, laureate of Spoon River, planned The Spooniad as an epic in twenty-four books, but ...
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