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Book: In the Days When the World Was Wide

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  • Our Andy's gone to battle now
    'Gainst Drought, the red marauder;
    38 lines, 2 comments
  • When the caravans of wool-teams climbed the ranges from the West,
    On a spur among the mountains stood `The Bullock-drivers' Rest';
    68 lines
  • A cloud of dust on the long white road,
    And the teams go creeping on
    46 lines, 2 comments
  • It was somewhere in September, and the sun was going down,
    When I came, in search of `copy', to a Darling-River town;
    88 lines
  • An hour before the sun goes down
    Behind the ragged boughs,
    70 lines
  • Out West, where the stars are brightest,
    Where the scorching north wind blows,
    71 lines
  • The diggings were just in their glory when Alister Cameron came,
    With recommendations, he told me, from friends and a parson `at ha
    54 lines
  • They lie, the men who tell us in a loud decisive tone
    That want is here a stranger, and that misery's unknown;
    102 lines, 4 comments
  • When you wear a cloudy collar and a shirt that isn't white,
        And you cannot sleep for thinking how you'll reach to-mor
    56 lines, 3 comments
  • Our Andy's gone to battle now
    'Gainst Drought, the red marauder;
    38 lines, 2 comments
  • When the caravans of wool-teams climbed the ranges from the West,
    On a spur among the mountains stood `The Bullock-drivers' Rest';
    68 lines
  • It was somewhere in September, and the sun was going down,
    When I came, in search of `copy', to a Darling-River town;
    88 lines
  • Out West, where the stars are brightest,
    Where the scorching north wind blows,
    71 lines
  • They lie, the men who tell us in a loud decisive tone
    That want is here a stranger, and that misery's unknown;
    102 lines, 4 comments
  • A cloud of dust on the long white road,
    And the teams go creeping on
    46 lines, 2 comments
  • The diggings were just in their glory when Alister Cameron came,
    With recommendations, he told me, from friends and a parson `at ha
    54 lines
  • An hour before the sun goes down
    Behind the ragged boughs,
    70 lines
  •     Old Mate!  In the gusty old weather,
        When our hopes and our troubles were new,
    41 lines, 2 comments
  • It chanced upon the very day we'd got the shearing done,
    A buggy brought a stranger to the West-o'-Sunday Run;
    78 lines, 1 comment
  • One day old Trooper Campbell
    Rode out to Blackman's Run,
    161 lines
  • The colours of the setting sun
    Withdrew across the Western land —
    47 lines
  • Now up and down the siding brown
    The great black crows are flyin',
    63 lines
  • Three bushmen one morning rode up to an inn,
    And one of them called for the drinks with a grin;
    34 lines
  • The world is narrow and ways are short, and our lives are dull and slow,
    For little is new where the crowds resort, and less where
    95 lines
  • They stood by the door of the Inn on the Rise;
    May Carney looked up in the bushranger's eyes:
    48 lines
  • When the kindly hours of darkness, save for light of moon and star,
    Hide the picture on the signboard over Doughty's Horse Bazaar;
    29 lines, 1 comment
  • Day of ending for beginnings!
    Ocean hath another innings,
    39 lines
  • Jack Denver died on Talbragar when Christmas Eve began,
    And there was sorrow round the place, for Denver was a man;
    70 lines
  • When I was up the country in the rough and early days,
    I used to work along ov Jimmy Nowlett's bullick-drays;
    66 lines
  • His old clay pipe stuck in his mouth,
    His hat pushed from his brow,
    71 lines
  • The rafters are open to sun, moon, and star,
    Thistles and nettles grow high in the bar —
    42 lines
  • I am back from up the country — very sorry that I went —
    Seeking for the Southern poets' land whereon to pitch my tent;
    61 lines
  • I'm lyin' on the barren ground that's baked and cracked with drought,
    And dunno if my legs or back or heart is most wore out;
    40 lines
  • Above the ashes straight and tall,
    Through ferns with moisture dripping,
    34 lines
  • The squatter saw his pastures wide
    Decrease, as one by one
    133 lines, 2 comments
  • When you've come to make a fortune and you haven't made your salt,
    And the reason of your failure isn't anybody's fault -
    29 lines, 1 comment
  • The night too quickly passes
    And we are growing old,
    96 lines, 2 comments
  • He had offices in Sydney, not so many years ago,
    And his shingle bore the legend `Peter Anderson and Co.',
    145 lines
  • Tall, and stout, and solid-looking,
    Yet a wreck;
    112 lines
  • If you fancy that your people came of better stock than mine,
    If you hint of higher breeding by a word or by a sign,
    24 lines
  • So you're writing for a paper?  Well, it's nothing very new
    To be writing yards of drivel for a tidy little screw;
    150 lines
  • The brooding ghosts of Australian night have gone from the bush and town;
    My spirit revives in the morning breeze,
    28 lines, 1 comment
  • You almost heard the surface bake, and saw the gum-leaves turn —
    You could have watched the grass scorch brown had there been
    80 lines
  • The world has had enough of bards who wish that they were dead,
    'Tis time the people passed a law to knock 'em on the head,
    31 lines
  • It is stuffy in the steerage where the second-classers sleep,
    For there's near a hundred for'ard, and they're stowed away like shee
    96 lines
  • While you use your best endeavour to immortalise in verse
    The gambling and the drink which are your country's greatest curse,
    19 lines, 1 comment
  • Down the street as I was drifting with the city's human tide,
    Came a ghost, and for a moment walked in silence by my side —
    56 lines
  • The old year went, and the new returned, in the withering weeks of drought,
    The cheque was spent that the shearer earned,
    61 lines
  • When the heavy sand is yielding backward from your blistered feet,
    And across the distant timber you can SEE the flowing heat;
    40 lines
  • There are scenes in the distance where beauty is not,
    On the desolate flats where gaunt appletrees rot.
    33 lines
  • Listen! The end draws nearer,
        Nearer the morning—or night—
    40 lines
  • I met her on the Lachlan Side —
    A darling girl I thought her,
    38 lines
  • HERE’S never a bough to be tossed in the breeze,
        For it’s long since the forest was green;
    34 lines
  • ’TWAS merry when the hut was full
        Of jolly girls and fellows.
    25 lines
  • YOU’RE OFF away to London now,
            Where no one dare ignore you,
    25 lines
  • ON A lonely selection far out in the West
    An old woman works all the day without rest,
    28 lines
  • A black-sheep, from England, who worked on the run –
    Riding where the stockmen ride –
    35 lines
  • I met Jack Ellis in town to-day --
    Jack Ellis -- my old mate, Jack --
    96 lines
  • Jack Cornstalk as a drover born,
    Jack Cornstalk gaunt and tan,
    11 lines
  • “Boys out there by the western creeks,
    Who hurry away from school,
    4 lines
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