By Alice Guerin Crist (1927) Last night, when I was listenin’ Alone, to wind and rain, He took the chair beside me, Himself ...

by Paul Grano    ‘A new shirt!’ Why? I have a shirt-two-three! worn a bit, not many days to them, nor perhaps to me. Soon earth’ll have one of them, my body in it:and later an end to ...

by Thomas G Rabbets    The embargo on the use of the hose to water gardens and flowers has been lifted by the Water Board. At Tuesday's meeting it was decided to withdraw all inspectors. We...

by Eva Mary O'Doherty Far off! far off! within the desert rude, In the cold heart of that deep solitude, Two magic letters on the rugged bark, With touching memory on that pathway dark, The wand...

I want a situation as a shepherd, be it known, On a comfortable station--not too far from town; The country must be timberless, the waters full of game, (For I like a little shooting), and the bl...

by James Devaney    Because I went the lone ways Among the tall trees, Because I loved the blue days, The bird melodies, Deemed you I did our love wrong In loving these too? Ah, every ...

by Eva Mary O'Doherty    The voices of the spring are calling Among the green hills far away; The flitting lights and shades are falling O’er skies of soft and weeping gray. The b...

by Thomas G Rabbets    (Written specially for the commemoration of Peace, 1919.) For all that makes life fair We give Thee grateful praise; For Peace at last, with peril past We'll thank T...

A QUEENSLAND BALLAD                         By George Vowles    [The origin of this ballad is this: A Scottish gentleman...

                                 &n...

                                    By Zora Cross  ‘They were so young,’ my father says, "so brave—The w...

by Llywellyn Lucas      I love old flowers: the withering Is natural and right: in mellowness to fall away; Secession of a pear to pulp and tiny pips of seed, The rot, the mother-d...

by E.M. England    So softly I go that the heron Who waits downstream has not stirred. Perhaps he thinks me a bird; Thinks me a brown bird gliding The length of the waterway, Alone wi...

  [WRITTEN FOR THE 'WORKER.']   They say that the angels are with us As ever we come and go; Unseen they hover around us Noiseless, and soft, and slow. But once I saw an angel Not ve...

by Mary Hannay Foott    Past the Fort on the fairway, where river and sea are met, Like new stars risen on the hillside, the Bushmen's fires are set, When the flames die down and to a...

by Emily Bulcock    Unveiling of Anzac Memorial, Sunday July 2, 1922 They met to honour the brave young dead,      Where a noble shaft rose high! In the quiet park...

by Peter Miles    It was good to lie in the sun discovering the texture of the wind and its pure pattern like a blind man in great folds of pure silk; feeling was good; and it was good to w...

by Zora Cross    He called….The quiet nurse stole to his side, Seeing how with his hands he strove to hide Dull tears, that from his mother's breast had sprung And stayed in his beca...

Ave, Labor!          Written for the Worker.   Ye famed musicians, hearken, And you, earth's singers sweet, Who sound your wondrous music, In the homes of 'the elit...

by Francis Kenna    I had written him a letter, which I had for want of betterKnowledge given to a partner by the name of 'Greenhide Jack'-He was shearing when I met him, and I thought...

by Howarde Tilse From the distant village Comes the throb of a native drum, And savage voices Chanting through the trees. A full moon Crystalises palms against the sky; And my thoughts .... wand...

Bare Hills Bare Hills no rain: curse and prayerPoured into vacuum;Those who came first, armed with torch and axe,Had the despoiler’s means and powerBut no authority; they cared not for posterity,Nor ...

by Peter Austen     The blue waves break along the shore, How blue, how blue the summer skies! Somewhere in France two brave blue eyes Lie closed for evermore!      ...

by Zora Cross     Oh, bury me in books when I am dead, Fair quarto leaves of ivory and gold, And silk octavos, bound in brown and red, That tales of love and chivalry unfold.  ...

BRISBANE City of the seven hills and the high-lord Sun,Cool with jade gums, hot with Poinsettia's flame-tongued blooms,Circled by sheening river, as a cool arm flungOver a lover sleeping in the white...

by Alice Gore-Jones    A red cathedral's tiles, a tapering spire Piercing her gaunt zinc roofs, the city lies. Dim blue hills rise about her circle-wise, And flame trees deck her steep whit...

by Peter Miles    You’re the tight twist in my heart when lost gulls of paperboys cry in a brownout, you are the lights  of my vanishing home and my desperate heart’s  l...

by Arthur Wade    I'd been camping in the back-blocks for a half a year or so, During which I think it never ceased to rain, I was seedy, I was tired, I considered life was slow And, l...

by Howarde Tilse    Death leers from the jungle – mockingly, And smiles all-knowing from the skies: With bony hands outstretched, caressingly... But light of bitter mockery in his eyes. Ah...

by Emily Bulcock    (Written at St. Helen's Hospital before an operation)  I saw you rise, proud tower, slow, sure and strong, And chaos change to ordered symmetry. Calmly you grew, ...

by Arthur Bayldon    (On a Queensland Beach)   Poisonous, bloated, crab-like shapes Crawl in gangs around these capes- Stopping here and feeding there, Fighting o'er a lump of...

by Llywelyn Lucas      The wings of the great dark angel – I heard them brushing, I heard them brushing but thank God not by me, And the tide of battle came suddenly to me rushing ...

Dark Road                      By James Devaney (1939) I will be your stay When the feet falter. I...

by Arthur Wade    I am sitting in my office, in my office all alone, Listening to the tramcars and the city's distant drone; I've a pile of letters round me and a lot of work to do, A ...

Death in the Bush                   George Vowles   A DEATH on the dismal plain, Where man never trod before; Where bones lie bleached with t...

By Martin Haley    The day of the Midsummer Solstice. We speed along by the Ithaca Baths. A heat wave rages. People of all sorts, shapes and sizes crowd in and about the little rect...

by Arthur Wade    Flat, Featureless, Foetid; Muddy as the mass mind of multitudes. Brown, Like a sere cloth Scorched in the flames of Hell. White, Slimey white, Trails of the crawling ...

  He is long, he is lean, he is wiry; He is loose-limbed and carelessly hung; He is quick on the flare-up and fiery; He swears with an eloquent tongue. He’s at home on a horse or a camel; H...

  by Garry Lyle   Let them glide bravely while the night-time lingers Boys and girls dancing down the blue-lit room.  Let them not see the pale, destroying fingers That hover over...

by June Saunders    I ride upon a crest exultantly! In this triumphal perilous poise upon The high white foam peak of my ecstasy I banish memories of long leagues that shone Palely ben...

by Frank C Francis    The music and the laughter simmer down Like an ebbing tide that slinks into the dark, As the last bright firework splutters to a spark And dies: and all the highw...

by Victor Kennedy    Away before the stretching eyes The little valley lies, And who would not be out with me along the tropic way? We sipped the wine of old romance when we were fresh...

  by Edgar Holt    From "Fiammetta" ….Sleep like the morning tide rolls out leaving me naked on a barren shore. Sharply I hear a newsboy shout, and the baker's boy is knocking at the...

by Frank Francis    When I have died build me no monument But let the natural grasses shroud my grave, With salt winds of the sea to meet the tang Of gums and oaks and ti-trees where t...

by Martin Haley    In China these things happened long ago: The patient of a doctor died, and so Conceiving he had been unskilfully Treated, his kinsmen seized good Doctor See. Int...

  Nature didn’t invent marriage, let alone monogamy.   Mere tidiness is the destroyer of creativity. The only real poverty is possession of a mean spirit We may seem to be and we ma...

by James Brunton Stephens    Extract from "From an Upper Verandah" What happier haunt could the gods allot For loftiest musing to sage or bard?- Yet I would that this upper veran...

by Mabel Forrest       From AUSTRALIA UNDEFENDED                                    &n...

by Colin Bingham    A Fragment Upon the crimson-mottled landing beach, The dying groan among the stiff'ning dead, And here and there a one as if to teach The way, half scrambles from his b...

    A race down the grassy hillside, A scramble and splash at the creek, A pause at the rugged sliprails, And a game of hide-and-seek. A search for the white scrub-lilies In gullies f...

Happy Days                    by Mary Hannay Foott  A fringe of rushes — one green line,Upon a faded plain; A silver streak of water-shine —Abo...

by George Essex Evans    Well done, Queensland! How's that, Umpire? More we may not say, "Kruger and the Mauser rifle" , Are not well to-day, For the armoured God of Battles, Watc...

by Gwen Belson Taylor    ….And somewhere is the sky still blue And the sun poignant on the morning dew As then….. And the white sea birds overhead Floating in idleness, as when The wav...

by Gwen Belson-Taylor    If I am ever blind, I shall have seen A jacaranda tree Gem-crowned with amethyst, in symphony With the startled blue of new Australian skies. Before the colour...

by Paul L Grano      This is where the People take tea- salmon rissoles, two, and chips for sevenpence, meat pie, potato mash, a penny less- this is where the People take tea. Fat...

by Francis Kenna    A thousand miles and more to the westward, Somewhere the city lies, I strain mine eyes for the glare reflected Up in the starlight skies. I strain mine ears for th...

by Mary Hannay Foott    Drowned In The Flood Of February, 1893 At Blackwall, Near Ipswich, Aged 19 Years Have you heard of Katie Jackson, Our Queensland girl so brave, And how fo...

  Farewell, old hills! No more my feet shall tread you To find the dingo’s den or emu’s nest; Beneath the eucalypts that overspread you,  No twilight-time shall find me there at rest.&nb...

by Arthur Wade    This is the tale of the little boy Ke, Born in Papua where, perhaps you've heard say, The cannibals live on just one meal a day. Which some people say is the right t...

by A.K.D    YOUNG, and blithe, and gay; Slight, and small of limb; Busy, till the birds Sang their evening hymn; This the lad who, on day hot, Walked away—returning not. They searched...

by Paula Fitzgerald    Today I laid me down beside my dear, And scanned the beauty of his sleeping face: I knew him mine,  not separate, but near- We two alone within a secret ...

by Peter Miles    In the suntime came love, with the spray of the wind in her hair and a song in her eyes. Out of love issued life. In the suntime came love, immortally gay, serene, un...

By Grace Perry[1]. The air was hushed with voiceless loveliness That trembled on the crystal brink of song, While waiting flowers drooped their heads in prayer. The fading sunlight tarried them a...

by Arthur Wade    If when I'm gone you chance to think of me, Think not, I beg, that I am far away, But that from near-by shades I still can see And share your pains or smile when you'...

by Francis Kenna    I often wonder what they see The crowd of people in the street, Who stand around a man at work, With pick and shovel in the heat. You see them gazing goggle-eyed, And d...

by Thomas G Rabbets     There was only one volunteer after yesterday's great recruiting meeting, held in Market-square, as the climax of the March of the Dungarees. Only 10 p...

  Her richest treasures with a lavish hand, I'll tell thee of a spot where Nature sheds Where, bright and soft, her Verdant mantle spreads 'Neath pleasant bowers, by softest breezes fann'd. ...

By Laurence Collinson[1] Into the gutters gushed the tedious rain and overflowed on to his step-worn shoes. he trod the puddled cobbles of the lane: discomfort emphasised the tawdry views of blu...

by Colin Bingham    My child's warm hand is such a thing That holding it I long to sing My faith in dark futurity My child's warm hand is such a thing That holding it I long to bring Her t...

by Gwen Belson-Taylor    How I have loved you You will never know, My loved ones drifting in an alien world, Through sun and days bereft, with rain drops pearled, Who children were so littl...

by Garry Lyle      Travelogues, radio have made those “west beyond the sunset” lands that boyhood fancy glamorized  familiar as Noosa sands.   Small difference exists b...

by Lucille M Quinlan    Sleep, my birrahlee;1 hush, my soft grey dove! Misty grows the cane-field, purple the range above. From the scrub by the lily-swamp, curlews wail – My birr...

An Ode to George Ferguson Bowen[1], Knight  On his arrival in Queensland                                  &...

                  To Nemo   Oh well and merry passed the time When we were three years younger, When lightsome jest and sportive rhyme Wak'd...

              By Alice Guerin Crist (1927).   We have scrubbed, and scoured and polished, till she's looking just like new, And her g...

by Eva Mary O'Doherty    Our true men! our true men! We proudly sing them all, In felon's chain, across the main, Despite of tyrant thrall. Our true men! our true men! We do not f...

  by Garry Lyle      Squats the old man age crippled by the town’s edge, bush-longing town-hatred  defeat in his eyes,  defeat and a death-wish.  Immobile he...

by James Devaney    The tufted gums along the rise Stand black against the evening skies. And in the red west sombreing As daylight dies, A simple moon-the loveliest thing. I love ou...

by Peter Miles    The boom of the surf again in rising wind…. For a long while now I have been remembering That stark sweet music in continuous Crescendo on the lonely beach, deep leit-moti...

by Victor Kennedy    Gold upon the mountain side, Gold in rock and river, Gold in men whose spirits ride From the vast Forever To seek again the better time, Their loves, and lusts, the flo...

by E.M.England    Other lovers will have found it now, Or, over-run with undergrowth and bough, It may lie list'ning to the surf's mild thunder-      &nbs...

by Emily Bulcock    As softly as the touch of moth's frail wing, As imperceptibly as falls the dew, Comes Beauty oft, in dovelike Quaker dress; But the brave poinciana's vivid challeng...

by Emily Bulcock    Midwinter clutches on the skirts of June- And lays her blighting touch on bud and flower, Her west winds, shrilling, play an eerie tune, Like witches' mirth, i...

 by Paul L. Grano    Lord in the Sacrament, forgive me, who am for ever asking, ever taking, and hear my song of praise this day in making.   I praise You, God, for silv...

by James Picot    The smashed and tumbling trunks litter the plains;Their wooden antlers pierce the fleshy leaves Of prickly pear clumps, and a ruby fire Eats at the cores of logs, and...

by K.H.Bradshaw    Sunday afternoon has long shadows Of couples in Queen Street;  And a sailor sits on the G.P.O. steps. Yellow placards bleat the soft shocks Of Sunday news. Art-...

From the land beyond the sunset, out beyond the Coral Sea, There’s a balmy breeze a-blowing, and it seems to call to me Through the magic of the sunset and the ocean’s briny spray- ‘Come you back, ...

by Eva Mary O'Doherty    Thou are, in sooth, a lovely land, As fair as ever fancy painted, In virgin freshness calm and bland, By shadows dark untainted. But, ah! upon that bright expa...

by E.M. England    Slowly the hours, with their star-dusted hair, Trail past the red-faced and broad-bosomed Moon, There is a stealthy glamour everywhere, A bright effulgence, lik...

by Victor Kennedy    Queer little deep brown almond eyes Turned to me now with grave surprise What the secrets tarrying there Baffling a world's inquiring stare? What is the wisdom so inten...

Rain at Dusk   Rain past my window, bursting into sprayon roof, in guttering. With shining feetchildren come in and splash, their voices sweetin the chill air, fading at last awaywhen in the ho...

  by Mabel Forrest      All day she works at the sewing machine, in the factory opposite, Where the staring blindless windows gape in the glow of the summer light, And all day...

by Martin Haley    Daily as down the suburb's slope I walk To school that claims a teacher's utter soul For seven timeless hours at a stretch, I who have lived my best in country place...

by 'Villeyse'    THERE is a long low strip of yellow sand  Bound with a bracelet by the bounteous sea, Of shining shells formed by some fairy hand, And here the waves come...

Remembering            by June Saunders  The silver sequins that are starsEmbroidering the blackOf velvet cloth o’night are spoilsOf magic pedlar-pack. Yet I would...

 by Paul L Grano      Age will not dull your eyes when mine are dim; morning will flush your cheeks though night is grim;   spring-light will tint your hair when mine ...

Have you heard the bell-birds calling, thro' the grey Australian bush, On some blue September morning, from the trees? Have you heard a creek go brawling, thro' the noonday's golden hush, Or the dr...

by Thomas G Rabbetts    The great recruiting march, Warwick to Brisbane, has begun. Rub! Dub! R-r-rub-dub-dub! Rub! Dub! R-r-rub-dub-dub! March! March! 'Tis the Empire's drum! Come! Come! ...

Rustic   This is the Land of Wait-a-While.I like it here.I like the big team straining on the hill(Dark forms outlined against the blue).I like great Sally's foal, that caracoles[1]Upon the slo...

by Emily Bulcock    All day soft rain have wrapt the city round In misty cloak with soothing in each fold, Halted Life's pageant; softened each harsh sound, Our world win[d]s back to simple...

  By Thea Astley[1] The crowded trams go past, The faces bright and painted -all the same; No joy to last! Last! you fools! A bit of dazzle came before the claim Of cold eternity.   ...

By Barrie Reid[1] Jack Reeves left home at the fifteenth anger went out west with cattle. Proud with the pride of his sixteen years he rode where the dust is on the wattle. All the suburb’s talk ...

by Pat Galligan    I shall wait impatient for the day When I shall leave this land of mine To fight her battles on a distant shore; To fight those men I know not, love not, hate not, B...

By Barbara Patterson[1] They in tired ways beset me Asking for pass ports And news of rain; I cannot tell them, I am escaping And the sun will never shine again. I am drunk with the deeds of d...

by Frank Francis    I shall not cheer at your triumph for I shall be dead, Exiled from home and part of an alien soil; Lost to your sunset's gold and purple and red And the night's grey foi...

by Edgar Holt    Why do you listen, watcher? Do you hear, rising above the urgent voice of pain, above the babble of the world, a clear, unbroken music, like the Spring again; the shin...

by Maurice Little      The people on the southern side, Are feeling most elated, So where you will, you’re bound to hear Their new Exchange debated; It’s sure to be a handsom...

by June Saunders    Was ever morning lovelier than this Beside a dreaming sea Blue as a cloudy turquoise, and as pale,With Sleep's tranquility? Hushed is the passing wind's imperi...

                   By Lydia M. D. O'Neil LORD, I have laboured for years upon years; I've had my full portion of trouble, and tears. Now- may I re...

by Alice Gore-Jones    The purple jacaranda bells are fluttering in the air; The mango trees are budding, there is sunshine everywhere. By silver creeks the willows droop their long gr...

  by Llywelyn Lucas      The air at sweet Taringa Is like Taringa's name, Clanging and sweet and streaming forth In a blue morning flame;   The great hills of Mount Co...

by Francis Kenna    Ten of us, eager as men may be, Rode through the night to the distant sea. One of us riding with reins held slack, Stumbled and fell on the stone-strewn track...

THE ABOLIAR[1]            by 'P.Flam' (Peter Airey)  The Aboliar’s a cheery soul,  Though prone to malediction;&n...

by George Essex Evans    His hat looks worn, and his coat-sleeves shine, As I see him step from his 'bus at nine; His boots are pieced and his tie home-made, And his trousers patched w...

I have gazed on sweet Killarney, that Eden of the West, And beauty spots in other lands, where the weary love to rest, And all this scenic beauty fond memories recalls, But my thoughts will always lin...

by Zora Cross      I had not dreamed that life could be so fair, Until you kissed its meaning into me, And sent my soul along its airy lea To find a sudden beauty everywhere. Make...

by Frank C Francis         Bells along the Condamine,      Sabbath chimes falling Like solemn benediction from the church of Goombi hi...

by Mabel Forrest  In the heart of the timbered country, where the boles of the trees show white, Where long leaves flicker above the grass in the hush of a moonless night, Where the Vandyke gr...

by Eva Mary O'Doherty    An Australian Love Song By Fate's strong hand I am hurled away To the distance, blue and dim, From the love and light of thy face to-day To the far horizon's ...

by Colin Bingham    The bowl is shattered The great blue bowl; Where it held roses – bronze and burning, Summer's heat caught in a clump of petals, Giving to lips of a bending woman Warmth ...

  by Colin Bingham    University Prize Poem, 1924                      &...

by Mabel Forrest        A creaking crane and a swinging weight, the moist, hot dark about us, And the laugh of a girl from the prow, with mirth that seems to flout us; And ove...

[THE following verses have been sent to us by a correspondent in the country, who states that he does not know the author's name—that he received a copy of them from a traveller.  We are not...

by 'Scotia'    MANY a mile, many a mile,Westward and northward, All 'neath the gum-tree boughs Camped the Six Hundred, Where white man never strayed, Where the bush darkest shade O'er their...

The Child I Was is Still in Me                   By Colin Bingham   The child I was is still in me; I know it when above the plain the fork-tail...

by Paula Fitzgerald    Who can it be who walks by the river? Walks by the river at close of the day? He does not speak, but I hear a voice calling, Calling the seagulls from far, far awa...

by Francis Kenna    Never glint of sunlight settles On its walls of granite grey; Dreary, in the glow of sunset; Gloomy, in the rising day. Never echo wakes the stillness, Singing birds or...

   The Explorers' Doom.[1]                            By George Vowles   ON New Holland's burning plains, ...

by Paula Fitzgerald    To Cyril* All through the years have we not seen your eyes Searching ours as if in mute appeal- And a voice – my soul's – within me cries, 'Brother of laug...

by James Brunton Stephens    from The Famine in Ireland, 1879-80 They shall not perish! Not if help can save Our hunger-stricken brethren from the grave! They shall not perish! With n...

by Brian Vrepont    At the burst of the first sky-bomb On the city, the god leapt out of me Screaming with impotence; Afterwards, dumb and warmly dead, He stood in the new ruins gazing...

by Victor Kennedy    Out across the bending cane Slowly after seven moons Falls the soaking tropic rain Kindly to the parched ratoons1. And I wander down the track Past the shallow bi...

by James Brunton Stephens    I am a gentle Anarchist, I couldn't kick a dog, Nor ever would for sport assist To pelt the helpless frog. I'd shoot a Czar, or wreck a train, Blow Parliam...

by James Sweeney    Who comprise those gallant heroes, and where did they come from Renowned in song and story, Aussies some thousands strong? They are composed of Macs and O’s, with ...

by Robert N. Gunn    I DWELL in a black gully deep; My bones they are scattered around, And are daily trod over by sheep - Into dust they will soon all be ground. My mates are the wily ...

by Alice Gore-Jones    These are the lists of death: They were so young! Brave valiant hearts Who loved the earth and sun, The stir of life, And joy's swift ardent breath. These are the li...

The Lonely Woman    Where the ironbarks are hanging leaves disconsolate and pale,   Where the wild vines o’er the ranges their spilt cream of blossom trail,   By the door of the ...

by James Picot    Worship the Lord, the God of wild cold kind, Water and wind, Motionless trees, And a change, and cries and silences. The woods shake off a wild spray of old rain, Th...

by James Sweeney    I set out from Proston for old Kingaroy, The going was easy, the ride was a joy; I covered the miles without hitch or a jar On that wonderful product – a “Malvern S...

by Edgar Holt      Lady of elusive smile, patched and powdered portraiture, were you always free from guile before you were a miniature? Were you Chloe to a Daphnis1 in an Arcady of ...

by Peter Austen                Somewhere in France he lies- Above his head the scarlet poppies blow, And silver moons have bloomed and still will bloom; Som...

by George Essex Evans    A handful of workers seeking the star of a strong intent – A handful of heroes scattered to conquer a continent- Thirst, and fever, and famine, drought, and ru...

by Brian Vrepont    I came upon them by a strip of sea, In a drizzle of rain mending their fishing-net, Four swift brown hands, and lean with industry, Shuttling the thin twine skilfully...

by Victor Kennedy    It's well, this tilting of the steady rain That fills each billabong; And yet, my ears are alert again For one cry old and long; It springs from the reefs where sh...

by Brian Vrepont    A captain of politico-industry is observing the city traffic in a reflector gadget on his desk. He shouts into a box. "Quick, guard, there goes a man Without a number...

by Colin Bingham    THIRTEEN A storm came o'er the hills to-day, And broke in sweeping rain and crashing hail; The great earth shook, and in dismay We watched the mad wind like a tir...

The Queenslander,  index of original poetry, 1885 Date Page/link Author Subject/Title  Subject    3/1/85  9 ...

by Garry Lyle      How was that boy who laughed a-down the river on glad, unshadowed holidays of peacetime to see across the years himself returning from a quiet edge of the wester...

From  The Seventh Child   I am the seventh child And my parents loved me well; They gave me the silver of seven stars- And the chime of a crystal bell. My father gave me a penny- (H...

by George Essex Evans      Typical Bark Hut In the old log hut the shepherd lay, His fevered cheek by the hot wind fanned; And he dreamt of the dear ones far away, And the fields ...

by Albert Bayldon   Far away in the coral sea-isles  That glisten like gems in the sea; Where a tropical sun ever smiles On groves of the cocoa-nut tree; Where the beautiful warm sleep...

by James Sweeney    They tell us Sydney's great and grand. I wonder why our statesmen stand For slums that long since be banned – Disgraceful to the nation. Wandering through a fester...

  I know a dell, where weeds grow rank Along a streamlet's shaded bank,- A lonely, wild, sequestered glen, Far from the dinning noise of men.   The trees above their branches twine, A...

  by E. Maurice Little      What mean these monuments of bronze and stone That in our midst like sentinels are set? What mean these words I read with solemn tone? Methinks a ...

by E. Maurice Little      Left-right-left! left-right-left! list to the marching feet! Thum-thum-thum! thum-thum-thum! hark to the drum’s quick beat! It calls me now as it calls bef...

by George Essex Evans    They left the vine-wreathed cottage and the mansion on the hill, The houses in the busy streets where life is never still, The pleasures of the city, and the f...

                   by Alice Gore-Jones   Men move about the workshop clumsily Some limping on a crutch, some with their hands  Seeking ...

by Peter Austen    There was a day, when insolently gay, I laughed unto the strumming of guitars. There was a night, I wove in some brave way A necklace of the stars. There was a day! ...

by Shawn O'Leary    God grant one letter from home today. The days are long and the blood-hate Leaves me weary when the fighting's done. My soul is sick with the agony Of it all and th...

by June Saunders   From Tinsel…Tinsel (The scene, a university ball, ca 1938) Bright eyes has Folly, lips that laugh and lure‑ At eight! . . . Dinner at eight . . . I know the phrase. At e...

by E. Maurice Little       A scarlet rose that once was gay,  And doubtless made some garden fair: But faded now-its beauty gone; Yet though it lay, as time pressed on, ...

by Albert Bayldon O hairy faced old swagman I doff the cap to youlI, too, have been a bagmanAnd had to battle throughThe ordeal long and drearyOf destiny adverse;Lean-gutted , worn and weary, And hum...

We watch your attitudes with candid eyes: Plain men are we, not given much to prate, Bluntly sincere, keenly compassionate But lions in our wrath at treacheries; Britons are we though under Austra...

By Alex Lire[1] One day I laughed by a careless stream And felt the birds in my heart, The beauty was that of a witch’s dream, A cloud, a wind, a part   Of the sun that then fell on my face...

TO LADY BOWEN[1]                       by 'Stylus'     Fair lady of the isles of Greece,- Those isles renowned in love and so...

    Remember now, as the storm wind from the bay awakens the weeping chorus of the pines,  how proudly I led you[1] off to your first long day at the small bush school below da...

To My Parents         by Paula FItzgerald  And so,This love of theirsWill sweeten all our daysOn through the years —So that when sorrow comes — if come it must —Its mem...

by James Picot    Beautiful bird, in as your wings as vivid A tree, Rosella! Beautiful bird, I said: 'Your tent won't shelter you or love or me, Red lad, these nine-o'-clocks, when Beauty ...

by Alice Gore-Jones    Troop trains troop trains Passing on their way. A sudden gust of cheering cuts The crisp cold winter's day. Above, a sky swept clear of cloud, A blue infinity; ...

Two triolets[1]                by June Saunders  Triolet, 1934 Blue as a blossom-cup the skyLeans over; and the world is still,Steeped in a drowsy gold....

By Frank C. Francis (1931) His shoes are worn and down-at-heel but clean;His clothes show signs of care tho' old and mean;His step is firm but tired. As he walksThe faintest limp is seen; yet still h...

  Over the archway, a legend, 'Enter the portals of Truth' Looked down on the serious concourse That passed by the kneeling girl, Ruth; Looked down on Ruth, scrubbing the marble Marked by the h...

by Mary Hannay Foott    Into Thy hands let me fall, O Lord – Not into the hands of men – And she thinned the ranks of the savage horde Till they shrunk to the mangrove fen. In a ...

by Gwen Belson-Taylor    For Jim Devaney   The old sailor leaves the port Quietly, out of pain. His hand is strong upon the helm And dawning breaks again. And out on the sweet waters...

  Some few nights in the store-keeper’s hut – tin roof and walls -scarce thirty yards from where the twelve head battery’s crushing feet pounded and crushed the snarling ore to floating slime ...

  Wanted a husband,--there's plenty, 'tis said, All through the district, who wish to get wed; Dark men and fair men, and little and tall-- Some with large stations, and others with small; B...

by Llywelyn Lucas      When Betelgeuse holds out her shining hand Across the hundreds of her years of light, I marvel that I should be here at gaze Upon the starry wonders of the n...

  ‘WHEN the drought breaks,  And the grass grows, And the cows are deep in clover, I'll take you then for a trip to town You shall buy new shoes, and a new blue gown — New things to we...

by Mary Hannay Foott    [The unexplored parts of Australia are sometimes spoken of by the bushmen of Western Queensland as the home of the pelican, a bird whose nesting place, so ...

by A. A. Bayldon    Because, my friends I have a savage glee In drinking to the dregs the draughts of life And love to feel my spirit spreading free, Stretching itself through every...

by Peter Miles    Grass like small feet following,  wind-worried. Wind in Moreton figs through leaves hand-broad, thick, stiff, through boughs soft clumsy, loutish, knotted, wind ...

1ST MARCH, 1885. Dedicated to Lord H—n (Minister for War). THE Third Battalion Grenadiers File through their barrack gate,  Mid natural flush of parting tears,  With usual step elate: ...

by James Devaney    Leaning against the wind across the paddock ways Comes Dan home with forward stoop like a man bent and old, Clashes the door in haste as one pursued: 'By Christ it'...