The children are taught more of the meanest state in Europe than of the country they are born and bred in, despite the singularity of its characteristics, the interest of its history, the rapidity of its advance, and the stupendous promise of its future.
quote by Henry Lawson
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Caricatures
There are writers great and writers small
And writers on the spree;
And writers short and writers tall,
And bards of low degree.
There are artists small and artist great,
With lines both bold and free –
It takes a Low to illustrate
Us bards of low degree.
poem by Henry Lawson
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A Backward Glance
IT IS well when you’ve lived in clover,
To mourn for the days gone by—
Would I live the same life over
Could I live again? Not I!
But, knowing the false from the real,
I would strive to ascend:
I would seek out my boyhood’s ideal,
And follow it to the end.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Shearer’s Song
The season is over;
The shearing is done;
The wages are paid; and
The ‘sprees’ have begun.
But never a shanty
Gets sight of my cheques;
For far down the Murray
My Annie expects
A heart that is faithful,
A head that is clear,
And sufficient provisions
To last for a year.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Laughing and Sneering
WHAT tho' the world does me ill turns
And cares my life environ;
I’d sooner laugh with Bobbie Burns
Than sneer with titl'd Byron.
The smile has always been the best;
’Tis stronger than the frown, sirs:
And Venus smiled the waves to rest;
She didn’t sneer them down, sirs.
poem by Henry Lawson
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To Tom Bracken
O had you tracked where Kendall* trod
I think you would be kneelin’
Three times a week and thankin’ God
That you are of New Zealan’!
For this I’ll say, to make it short,
An’ keep my tongue from clacken—
The people are a kinder sort
You’re singin’ for, Tom Bracken.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Sweethearts Wait on Every Shore
SHE SITS beside the tinted tide,
That’s reddened by the tortured sand;
And through the East, to ocean wide,
A vessel sails from sight of land.
But she will wait and watch in vain,
For it is said in Cupid’s lore,
“That he who loved will love again,
And sweethearts wait on every shore.”
poem by Henry Lawson
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Unwritten Books
It always seems the same old story –
No matter what grand heights are won –
We die with out best work unwritten,
We die with out best work undone.
Unwritten books, unpainted pictures
In millions are, beneath the sun.
We die, with our great thoughts unpublished,
We die with our best work undone.
poem by Henry Lawson
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When Hopes Ran High
When hopes ran high the world was young,
We thought that we would never die,
And glorious were the songs we sung
In those grand days when hopes ran high.
When hopes ran high the world was true
We thought that friends could never lie—
There have been bitter truths for you
And me, since days when hopes ran high.
poem by Henry Lawson
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To Roumania
Rifles of the Rear Guard,
Rattling through the rain,
Falling back and falling back
To make a stand again –
Rifles of the Rear Guard,
Shall you die in vain?
Rifles of the Rear Guard.
In the cold and wet;
Rifles of the Rear Guard,
We’re coming – do not fret!
The rifles of the Rear Guard
Shall be the Vanguard yet.
poem by Henry Lawson
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