The Song And The Sigh

The creek went down with a broken song,
'Neath the sheoaks high;
The waters carried the song along,
And the oaks a sigh.

The song and the sigh went winding by,
Went winding down;
Circling the foot of the mountain high,
And the hillside brown.

They were hushed in the swamp of the Dead Man's Crime,
Where the curlews cried;
But they reached the river the self-same time,
And there they died.

And the creek of life goes winding on,
Wandering by;
And bears for ever, its course upon,
A song and a sigh.

poem by Henry Lawson
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Jack Cornstalk in his Teens

“If not in the Garden, he had in the ark,
To neither the beasts’ nor the passengers’ joy.
Full many a boyish and monkeyish lark,
The sandy-complexioned, the freckle-faced boy.

And down through the ages he rattles the drums,
While armies and nations each other destroy;
The century goes, and the century comes
But he lives on forever, the freckle-faced boy.

All over the world are the lands of his birth;
And when Time and Transgression this planet destroy
He will come to advise the last man on earth
The fatherly, chummy, the freckle-faced boy.”

poem by Henry Lawson
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Kerosine Bay

‘Tis strange on such a peaceful day
With white clouds flying o’er,
That foreign boats are in the bay
As prisoners of war.
The Harbour, where they quietly lay;
Smiles brightly as of yore.

Where never angry shot was fired
To alter peaceful plans;
Where British lumpers worked till tired
With Yacob and with Hans,
And ‘shouted’ when their work was done
For other ‘sailormans’.

And while we think of other lands
And what is doing there,
And while we think of what red hands
May wreak in our despair –
How can the Harbour be so blue,
And the sky above so fair?

poem by Henry Lawson
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Outside

I want to be lighting my pipe on deck,
With my baggage safe below—
I want to be free of the crowded quay,
While the steamer’s swinging slow.
I want to be free of treachery,
And of sordid joys and griefs—
To be out of sight of the faces white,
And the waving of handkerchiefs.
I want to be making my ship-board friends,
I want to be free of the past—
I want to be laughing with kindred souls,
While the Heads are opening fast.
I want to be sailing far to-day,
On the tracks where the rovers go,
To feel the heave of the deck, and draw
The breath that the rovers know.

poem by Henry Lawson
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Outside

I want to be lighting my pipe on deck,
With my baggage safe below—
I want to be free of the crowded quay,
While the steamer’s swinging slow.
I want to be free of treachery,
And of sordid joys and griefs—
To be out of sight of the faces white,
And the waving of handkerchiefs.
I want to be making my ship-board friends,
I want to be free of the past—
I want to be laughing with kindred souls,
While the Heads are opening fast.
I want to be sailing far to-day,
On the tracks where the rovers go,
To feel the heave of the deck, and draw
The breath that the rovers know.

poem by Henry Lawson
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The Statue of Our Queen

PRIDE, selfishness in every line,
And on its face a frown,
It stands, a sceptre in its hand,
And points forever down.
And who will kneel? The unemployed!
Small homage pay, I ween,
The only men who gather ’neath
The Statue of our Queen.

I’d scarcely wonder if the sun,
That rises with good grace,
Should sink and leave the day undone
At sight of such a face.
But no! The day will still have birth
In all its golden sheen,
When antiquarians unearth
The Statue of our Queen.

Then if you’d have us loyal bide
As we have loyal been,

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Lawson
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Take It Fightin’

When you’ve got no chance at all,
Take it fightin’.
When you’re driven to the wall,
Take it fightin’.

There are things that we delight in
For the wrongin’ or the rightin’,
But the fool you cannot frighten
(That you cannot bluff nor frighten)
He is King of all.
(Take it fightin’.)

When you’re down an’ out an’ utter,
Take it fightin’;
When they’ve put you in the gutter,
Take it fightin’.

There are things that we delight in
For the wrongin’ or the rightin’,
But the fool you cannot frighten

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poem by Henry Lawson
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The Watch on the Kerb

Night-Lights are falling;
Girl of the street,
Go to your calling
If you would eat.
Lamplight and starlight
And moonlight superb,
Bright hope is a farlight,
So watch on the kerb.
Watch on the kerb,
Watch on the kerb;
Hope is a farlight;
Then watch on the kerb.

Comes a man: call him —
Gone! he is vext;
Curses befall him,
Wait for the next!
Fair world and bright world,
Life still is sweet —
Girl of the night-world,

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poem by Henry Lawson
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The Flag of our Destinies

With our boundaries swung to the circling seas and a nation named to the world!
And the six-starred flag of our destinies on every port unfurled!
God grant from Greed or the dust of sleep – or the right by a lie maintained –
From all save our blood, if we must, we’ll keep the silver and blue unstained!

We yield no praise and we speak no blame, for our history ‘s weeds and flowers –
But the work of a hundred years we claim as our father’s work and ours!
Through peace to prosper or war to save – wherever the future runs –
May God make noble and strong and brave the hearts of our father’s sons.

poem by Henry Lawson
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The Lily and the Bee

I Looked upon the lilies
When the morning sun was low,
And the sun shone through a lily
With a softened honey glow.
A spot was in the lily
That moved incessantly,
And when I looked into the cup
I saw a morning bee.
“Consider the lilies!”
But, it occurs to me,
Does any one consider
The lily and the bee?

The lily stands for beauty,
Use, purity, and trust,
It does a four-fold duty,
As all good mortals must.
Its whiteness is to teach us,
Its faith to set us free,
Its beauty is to cheer us,

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poem by Henry Lawson
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