The Blue Mountains (Henry Lawson Poem)
Above the ashes straight and tall, Through ferns with moisture dripping, I climb beneath the sandstone wall, My feet on ...
Above the ashes straight and tall, Through ferns with moisture dripping, I climb beneath the sandstone wall, My feet on ...
The fat lady came out first, tearing out roots and moistening drumskins. The fat lady who turns dying octopuses inside ...
More than a hundred years ago, in a great battle fought near Delhi, an Indian Prince rode fifty miles after ...
1914 He passed in the very battle-smoke Of the war that he had descried. Three hundred mile of cannon spoke ...
Shall I move the flowers again? Shall I put them further to the left into the light? Win that fix ...
I. LONELINESS Her Word One ought not to have to care So much as you and I Care when the ...
I DWELL in a lonely house I know That vanished many a summer ago, And left no trace but the ...
"I've been having these awful dreams, each a little different, though the core's the same- we're walking in a field, ...
Children of the elemental mother, Born upon some lonely island shore Where the wrinkled ripples run and whisper, Where the ...
The little voices of the prairie dogs Are tireless . . . They will give three hurrahs Alike to stage, ...
1 They that in play can do the thing they would, Having an instinct throned in reason's place, --And every ...
Snow falls. The sky is grey, and sullenly glares With purple lights in the canyoned street. The fiery sign on ...
Through Alpine meadows soft-suffused With rain, where thick the crocus blows, Past the dark forges long disused, The mule-track from ...
The railway rattled and roared and swung With jolting and bumping trucks. The sun, like a billiard red ball, hung ...
I Soft is the sky in the mist-kirtled east, Light is abroad on the sea, All of the heaven with ...
Every year without knowing it I have passed the day When the last fires will wave to me And the ...
When I die, I will see the lining of the world. The other side, beyond bird, mountain, sunset. The true ...
In youth my wings were strong and tireless, But I did not know the mountains. In age I knew the ...
I, too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond all this fiddle. Reading it, however, with a perfect ...
I A dream of interlinking hands, of feet Tireless to spin the unseen, fairy woof Of the entangling waltz. Bright ...
From cold Norse caves or buccaneer Southern seas Oft come repenting tempests here to die; Bewailing old-time wrecks and robberies, ...
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