Song of the Wheat (Andrew Barton Paterson Poems)
We have sung the song of the droving days, Of the march of the travelling sheep; By silent stages and ...
We have sung the song of the droving days, Of the march of the travelling sheep; By silent stages and ...
Now is the law of the Overland that all in the West obey -- A man must cover with travelling ...
Oh, the weary, weary journey on the trek, day after day, With sun above and silent veldt below; And our ...
With Homer you conversed alone for days and nights, Our waiting hours were passing slowly, And shining you came down ...
(1) This is the sea, then, this great abeyance. How the sun's poultice draws on my inflammation. Electrifyingly-colored sherbets, scooped ...
Travel, trouble, music, art, A kiss, a frock, a rhyme- I never said they feed my heart, But still they ...
You never heard tell of the story? Well, now, I can hardly believe! Never heard of the honour and glory ...
He came from "further out", That land of fear and drought And dust and gravel. He got a touch of ...
Ye Sons of Great Britain, pray list to me, And I'll tell ye of a great victory. Where the British ...
How shall I know, unless I go To Cairo and Cathay, Whether or not this blessed spot Is blest in ...
On he goes, the little one, Bud of the universe, Pediment of life. Setting off somewhere, apparently. Whither away, brisk ...
I wonder, can the night go by; Can this shot arrow of travel fly Shaft-golden with light, sheer into the ...
Oft seems the Time a market-town Where many merchant-spirits meet Who up and down and up and down Cry out ...
The art of losing isn't hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that ...
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