#AustralianWriters
It was a mighty snug resort, that… A snug resort where fellows dined… The boarders all had gone to bed,… When Pat suggested to his pal ’tw… They drifted to the closing bar, a…
There’s a damper in the ashes, tea… There’s whips of feed and shelter… There’s gidya wood about us and wa… And just one bottle left yet of th… There are chops upon the embers, w…
Athwart the star-lit midnight sky Luminous fleecy clouds drift by, As the mysterious, pallid moon Sinks in the waveless still lagoon… Now that the queen of night is dea…
The world around is sleeping, The stars are bright o’erhead, The shades of myalls weeping Upon the sward are spread; Among the gloomy pinetops
Somebody’s horse has finished his… Somebody’s saddle is on; But never a nigger the tracks can… Or know where Somebody’s gone. Over the rails and up the creek,
The morning-tide is fair and brigh… With golden sun up-springing; The cedars glowed in the new-born… And the bell-bird’s note was ringi… While diamonds dropped by dusky N…
Could I borrow the laverock’s lif… Or the silvery song from the black… Then would I warble the whole day… Telling, in floods of passionate s… How worlds might tremble, or skies…
A dandy old horsernan is Brigalow… Which his name, sir, is Michael O… Whatever he’s riding, when timber… He is always in front of the crowd… A few tangled locks that are fast…
Gray eyes and gamboge hair! One barmaid of 'The Crown’! Ah, will that beaming siren still… When I go next to town? - When over-night much spirit I had…
They are mustering cattle on Brig… Where the stock-horses whinny and… And where long Andy Ferguson, you… Is yet boss on a cutting-out camp. Half the duffers I met would not…
I can mind him at the start - Easy seat and merry heart! Said he, as he threw a glance At the crawling ambulance: ‘Some day I’ll be on the ground
So now the Brands Seek other lands; Alack! long ere they reach ‘em A fickle crowd Will cheer as loud
What are you doing now, Paddy Mag… Grafting, or spelling now, Paddy… Breaking, or branding? Or overlanding, Out on the sand ridges, Paddy Mag…
Never before was daughter of Eve… There be none of God’s holy angel… As thine, nor dreamer has ever dre… There’s a gleam in your golden tre… There is witchery in your smile,…
Three droving men, some three week… Sat drinking the Queensland rum; ’Twas four a.m. when twa o’ them Saw jock M’Phee succumb. Hech! they were giddy songs he’d s…