An Anthology of Australian Verse |
Contents
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Common terms and phrases
Adam Lindsay Gordon Australian beauty blossoms blue breast breath breeze bright bush CAPE SCHANCK Clancy clouds Conroy's creek dawn dead dear death deep divine dream Dunedin earth eyes face fair flame flowers gleam glory glow gold golden gone Good-bye grass green grey company grey North grey river hand hear heart hills Hy-Brasil James Lister Cuthbertson kiss land light lips live lonely Melbourne moon morning mountain neath never night o'er pain passion plain Queensland QUIS SEPARABIT rest ride rising tide river RIVERINA rolling rose round Rouseabout shadow shining shore silent sing skies sleep soft song soul stars stock whip storm strange summer sweet Sydney Sydney Jephcott thee Thou thro town TRAVELLING POST OFFICE trees Tui Viti verse voice wattle waves weary West whispered wild wind wings wonder
Popular passages
Page 29 - For good undone and gifts misspent and resolutions vain, 'Tis somewhat late to trouble. This I know — I should live the same life over, if I had to live again; And the chances are I go where most men go. The deep blue skies wax dusky, and the tall green trees grow dim, The sward beneath me seems to heave and fall; And sickly, smoky shadows through the sleepy sunlight swim, And on the very sun's face weave their pall. Let me slumber in the hollow where the wattle blossoms wave, With never stone...
Page 63 - NOT understood, we move along asunder; Our paths grow wider as the seasons creep Along the years; we marvel and we wonder Why life is life, and then we fall asleep Not understood. Not understood...
Page 34 - Rose Lorraine, I'll whisper now where no one hears. If you should chance to meet again The man you kissed in soft dead years, Just say for once "he suffered much", And add to this "his fate was worst Because of me, my voice, my touch", — There is no passion like the first ! If I that breathe your slow sweet name As one breathes low notes on a flute, Have vext your peace with word of blame, The phrase is dead — the lips are mute.
Page 35 - Of strength are belted round with all the zones Of all the world, I dedicate these songs. And if, within the compass of this book, There lives and glows one verse in which there beats The pulse of wind and torrent — if one line Is here that like a running water sounds, And seems an echo from the lands of leaf, Be sure that line is thine. Here, in this home, Away from men and books and all the schools, I take thee for my Teacher. In thy voice Of deathless majesty, I, kneeling, hear God's grand authentic...
Page 35 - TO A MOUNTAIN •"TO thee, O father of the stately peaks, Above me in the loftier light — to thee, Imperial brother of those awful hills Whose feet are set in splendid spheres of flame, Whose heads are where the gods are, and whose sides Of strength are belted round with all the zones Of all the world, I dedicate these songs.
Page 168 - He was shearing when I knew him, so I sent the letter to him, Just on spec, addressed as follows, "Clancy, of The Overflow." And an answer came directed in a writing unexpected (And I think the same was written with a thumb-nail dipped in tar); Twas his shearing mate who wrote it, and verbatim I will quote it: "Clancy's gone to Queensland droving, and we don't know where he are." In my wild erratic fancy visions come to me of Clancy Gone a-droving "down the Cooper...
Page 191 - WE boast no more of our bloodless flag, that rose from a nation's slime; Better a shred of a deep-dyed rag from the storms of the olden time. From grander clouds in our " peaceful skies " than ever were there before I tell you the Star of the South shall rise — in the lurid clouds of war. It ever must be while blood is warm and the sons of men increase; For ever the nations rose in storm, to rot in a deadly peace.
Page 31 - And the music of lovers. September, the maid with the swift, silver feet! She glides, and she graces The valleys of coolness, the slopes of the heat, With her blossomy traces; Sweet month, with a mouth that is made of a rose, She lightens and lingers In spots where the harp of the evening glows, Attuned by her fingers. The stream from its home in the hollow hill slips In a darling old fashion; And the day goeth down with a song on its lips Whose key-note is passion; Far out in the fierce, bitter...
Page 26 - Katawa," with the sandpeaks all ablaze, And the flushed fields of Glen Lomond lay to north. Now westward winds the bridle-path that leads to Lindisfarm, And yonder looms the double-headed Bluff; From the far side of the first hill, when the skies are clear and calm You can see Sylvester's woolshed fair...
Page 25 - HOLD hard, Ned! Lift me down once more, and lay me in the shade. Old man, you've had your work cut out to guide Both horses, and to hold me in the saddle when I swayed, All through the hot, slow, sleepy, silent ride. The dawn at