There is waving of grass in the breezeAnd a song in the air,And a murmur of myriad beesThat toil everywhere.There is scent in the blossom and bough,And the breath of the SpringIs as soft as a kiss on a brow–And Spring-time I sing. There is drought on the land, and the stockTumble down in their […]

Now look, you see, it’s this way like,You cross the broken bridgeAnd run the crick down till you strikeThe second right-hand ridge. The track is hard to see in parts,But still it’s pretty clear;There’s been two Injin hawkers’ cartsAlong that road this year. Well, run that right-hand ridge along–It ain’t, to say, too steep–There’s two […]

(A ballad concerning the amalgamation of the legal professions.) Oh, Mr. Gilhooley he turned up his toes,As most of us do, soon or late;And Jones was a lawyer, as everyone knows,So they took him Gilhooley’s Estate. Gilhooley in life had been living so free‘Twas thought his possessions were great,So Jones, with a smile, says, “There’s […]

This is the story the stockman told,On the cattle camp, when the stars were bright;The moon rose up like a globe of goldAnd flooded the plain with her mellow light.We watched the cattle till dawn of dayAnd he told me the story of Mongrel Grey. . . . . . He was a knock-about station […]

(1886) Bring me a quart of colonial beerAnd some doughy damper to make good cheer,I must make a heavy dinner;Heavily dine and heavily sup,Of indigestible things fill up,Next month they run the Melbourne Cup,And I have to dream the winner. Stoke it in, boys! the half-cooked ham,The rich ragout and the charming cham.,I’ve got to […]

There’s a sunny Southern land,And it’s there that I would beWhere the big hills stand,In the South Countrie!When the wattles bloom again,Then it’s time for us to goTo the old Monaro countryAt the melting of the snow. To the East or to the West,Or wherever you may be,You will find no placeLike the South Countrie.For […]

When an attorney is called before the Full Court to answer for any alleged misconduct it is not usual to publish his name until he is found guilty; until then the matter appears in the papers as “In re a Gentleman, One of the Attorneys of the Supreme Court”, or, more shortly, “In re a […]

It chanced out back at the Christmas time,When the wheat was ripe and tall,A stranger rode to the farmer’s gate–A sturdy man and a small. “Rin doon, rin doon, my little son Jack,And bid the stranger stay;And we’ll hae a crack for Auld Lang Syne,For the morn is Christmas Day.” “Nay now, nay now,” said […]

They came of bold and roving stock that would not fixed abide;They were the sons of field and flock since e’er they learnt to ride,We may not hope to see such men in these degenerate yearsAs those explorers of the bush–the brave old pioneers. ‘Twas they who rode the trackless bush in heat and storm […]

Here in my mountain home,On rugged hills and steep,I sit and watch you come,O Riverina Sheep! You come from fertile plainsWhere saltbush (sometimes) grows,And flats that (when it rains)Will blossom like the rose. But, when the summer sunGleams down like burnished brass,You have to leave your runAnd hustle off for grass. ‘Tis then that–forced to […]

I wooed her with a steeplechase, I won her with a fall,I made her heartstrings quiver on the flatWhen the pony missed his take-off, and we crashed into the wall;Well, she simply had to have me after that! It awoke a thrill of interest when they pulled me out for deadFrom beneath the shattered ruins […]

We’re away! and the wind whistles shrewdIn our whiskers and teeth;And the granite-like grey of the roadSeems to slide underneath.As an eagle might sweep through the sky,So we sweep through the land;And the pallid pedestrians flyWhen they hear us at hand. We outpace, we outlast, we outstrip!Not the fast-fleeing hare,Nor the racehorses under the whip,Nor […]

Oh, there’s some that breeds the Devon that’s as solid as a stone,And there’s some that breeds the brindle which they call the “Goulburn Roan”;But amongst the breeds of cattle there are very, very fewLike the hairy-whiskered bullock that they bred at Gundaroo. Far away by Grabben Gullen, where the Murrumbidgee flows,There’s a block of […]

I say ‘e isn’t Remorse!‘Ow do I know?Saw ‘im on Riccarton courseTwo year ago!Think I’d forget any ‘orse?Course ‘e’s The Crow! Bumper Maginnis and I,After a “go”,Walkin’ our ‘orses to dry,I says, “Hello!What’s that old black goin’ by?”Bumper says “Oh!That’s an old cuddy of Flanagan’s–Runs as The Crow!” Now they make out ‘e’s Remorse.Well, but […]

The new chum’s polo pony was the smartest pony yet–The owner backed it for the Cup for all that he could get.The books were laying fives to one, in tenners; and you betHe was on it. The bell was rung, the nags came out their quality to try,The band played “What Ho! Robbo!” as our […]

There’s nothing here sublime,But just a roving rhyme,Run off to pass the time,With nought titanic inThe theme that it supports,And, though it treats of quarts,It’s bare of golden thoughts–It’s just a pannikin. I think it’s rather hardThat each Australian bard–Each wan, poetic card–With thoughts galvanic inHis fiery soul alight,In wild aerial flight,Will sit him down […]

By the winding Wollondilly where the weeping willows weep,And the shepherd, with his billy, half awake and half asleep,Folds his fleecy flocks that linger homewards in the setting sun,Lived my hero, Jim the Ringer, “cocky” on Mylora Run. Jimmy loved the super’s daughter, Miss Amelia Jane McGrath.Long and earnestly he sought her, but he feared […]

‘Twas to a small, up-country town,When we were boys at school,There came a circus with a clown,Likewise a bucking mule.The clown announced a scheme they hadSpectators for to bring–They’d give a crown to any ladWho’d ride him round the ring. And, gentle reader, do not scoffNor think a man a fool–To buck a porous-plaster offWas […]

I dreamed a dream at the midnight deep,When fancies come and goTo vex a man in his soothing sleepWith thoughts of awful woe–I dreamed that I was a corner-manOf a nigger minstrel show. I cracked my jokes, and the building rangWith laughter loud and long;I hushed the house as I softly sangAn old plantation song–A […]

Grey dawn on the sand-hills–the night wind has driftedAll night from the rollers a scent of the sea;With the dawn the grey fog his battalions has lifted,At the call of the morning they scatter and flee. Like mariners calling the roll of their numberThe sea-fowl put out to the infinite deep.And far over-head–sinking softly to […]