The Ballad of Ashantie Pagoda (A B Banjo Paterson Poems)
'Or How the Brigadier Got the Order of the Nile and the Servian White Eagle'"I write that he who reads ...
'Or How the Brigadier Got the Order of the Nile and the Servian White Eagle'"I write that he who reads ...
A sight that gives me much distress Is George without his trousers,Garbed, scantily, in bathing dress Proscribed by saintly Wowsers,And ...
When I go back from Billy's place I always have to roamThe mazy road, the crazy road that leads the ...
Over the top! The wire's thin here, unbarbedPlain rusty coils, not staked, and low enough:Full of old tins, though - ...
Luke Gale, the larrikin lad, dwelt in Larrikin Lane, A low street, a by-street, right at the edge of the ...
Mr Trim, commercial traveller, is in town again, "Our Mr Trim," you know, debonair and neat;Landed here this morning on ...
They say the eagle is a bird That sees some splendid sightsWhen he soars high into the sky Upon his ...
'Twas a dirty night, 'twas a dirty trickWhen our ship turned over in the AtlanticIt was the schooner Hesperous - ...
Romance goes out of everything in these days of ill grace,And even old John Barleycorn grows "standardised" apace;Once henchman of ...
Land of Forests, fleas and flies,Blighted hopes and blighted eyes,Art thou hell in earth's disguise,Westralia?Art thou some volcanic blastBy volcanoes ...
I heave my morning like a sack of signs that don't appear, say August, August, takes me back... That it ...
'My father still reads the dictionary every day. He says your life depends on your power to master words.' Arthur ...
Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a ...
Dipping our bread in oil tins we talked of morning peeling open our rooms to a moment of almonds, olives ...
The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot "Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et ...
(For D. M. C.) The little man with the vague beard and guise Pulled at the wicket. "Come inside!" he ...
There were still shards of an ancient pastoral in those shires of the island where the cattle drank their pools ...
(In memoriam C. T. W. Sometime trooper of the Royal Horse Guards obiit H.M. prison, Reading, Berkshire July 7, 1896) ...
MOORING POSTS 1 The mooring posts marked on the South Leeds map Of 1908 still line the Aire's side, huge, ...
Groping along the tunnel, step by step, He winked his prying torch with patching glare From side to side, and ...
On he goes, the little one, Bud of the universe, Pediment of life. Setting off somewhere, apparently. Whither away, brisk ...
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