Jack Corrigan (Barcroft Henry Boake Poems)
It's my shout this time, boys, so come along and breast the ...
It's my shout this time, boys, so come along and breast the ...
Our Skeeta was married, our Skeeta! the tomboy and pet of the ...
On Nungar the mists of the morning hung low,The beetle-browed hills brooded silent and black,Not yet warmed to life by ...
The Western sun, ere he sought his lair, Skimm'd the treetops, and ...
Long time beside the squatter's gate A great grey Box-Tree, early, late, Or shine or rain, in silence there Had ...
Far reaching down's a solid sea sunk everlastingly to rest, And yet whose billows seem to be for ever heaving ...
The first flush of grey light, the herald of daylight,Is dimly outlining the musterer's camp,Where over the sleeping, the stealthily ...
The snow lies deep on hill and dale,In rocky gulch and grassy vale,The tiny, trickling, tumbling fallsAre frozen 'twixt their ...
Dozens of damp little curls; One little short upper lip; Two rows of teeth like diminutive pearls; Eyes clear and ...
Easter Monday in the city - Rattle, rattle, rumble, rush;Tom and Jerry, ...
Hear the loud swell of it, mighty pell mell of it,Thousands of voices all blent into one:See "hell for leather" ...
Will she spring with a blush from the arms of Dawn, When the sleepy songsters prune Their dewy vestments on ...
Yes, there it hangs upon the wall And never gives a sound,The hand that trimmed its greenhide fall Is hidden ...
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