By inlet and islet and wide river… By lake and lagoon I’m at home, Yet oft’ the far forests of blue-g… About the broad ranges I roam, ‘There’s a strange, sombre bird wi…

We roam about the countryside And view the farmlands rolling wid… A picture surely this of peace, of… We mark within these sylvan scenes The whirr and clatter of machines

Here she bides, a buxom lady, Blest by peace and great content; Dwelling by her byways shady, Where the elm trees boughs are ben… Shutting out the world’s wild clam…

Well (said the small, meek man) we… In this sad world, for these are s… And men pin hopes to methods new a… And see lost happiness thro’ alter… And I, who many a bitter cup have…

We mean to say, it never has been… That anyone but England could dec… In the crease or at the wicket, Just exactly what was cricket And, of course, I mean to say, we…

He gleaned all the gossip and he g… Mad Matt, the carrier, delivering… He knew the trooper’s tattle and h… The gossip at the station-yard, th… That high-pitched voice of his, th…

Righto! I’ll give the game a go. They say I should be circumspect;… I’ll bang The cows in slang . .

When the scheming Fusion few Sought to snare the Lib’ral crew, It was plain for all to view That they wobbled. And when later in the day

Day after day, week after burning… A ruthless sun has sucked the fore… Morn after anxious morn men’s glan… The hills, hard-etched against a h… Gay blossoms droop and die.

Have you heard the inscrutable mut… The mannerly man with the silvery… Ever loquacious, Smiling and gracious. Loud in the land have his praises…

The sun burns hotly thro’ the gums As down the road old Rogan comes The hatter from the lonely hut Beside the track to Woollybutt. He likes to spend his Christmas w…

The ole train puffs in once a day On the ole Gunn’s Gully line; In a lazy, leisurely kind o’ way She comes in, wet or fine. Nobody wants her, nobody needs her…

When I rode with young Sid Kidma… In that year the Long Drought end… As we took the old Tarcowie track… His keen eye scanned the country,… Mal Murray and Jim Spicer, of Ja…

With wood and wool for Adelaide The paddle boats came down When here this spritely river maid Built up her river town. Flanked by the green of spreading…

Wot price ole Ginger Mick? 'E’s… Gone to the flamin’ war to stoush… Wus it fer glory, or a woman’s sak… Ar, arst me somethin’ easy! I dun… ‘Is Kharki clobber set ’im off a…