Henry Lawson Poems

Jack Cornstalk lives in the Southern Land—
What says Cornstalk John?
Jack Cornstalk says in a loud firm voice:
“Land of the South, lead on.”
...

So the days of my tramping are over,
And the days of my riding are done—
I’m about as content as a rover
Will ever be under the sun;
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The Big rough boys from the runs out back were first where the balls flew free,
And yelled in the slang of the Outside Track: ‘By God, it’s a Christmas spree!’
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THE CROSS-CUT and the crowbar cross, and hang them on the wall,
And make a greenhide rack to fit the wedges and the maul,
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Of his beauty, or stature, or colour of hair I hadn’t the slightest hint,
But he comes to me as a little man, with a scrubby beard and a squint,
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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’!
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All is well—in a prison—to-night, and the warders are crying ‘All’s Well!’
I must speak, for the sake of my heart—if it’s but to the walls of my cell.
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There's a light out there in the nearer east
In the dawn of Nineteen Nine;
There’s the old ghost light in the salty yeast
Where the black rocks meet the brine.
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It was Peter the Barbarian put an apron in his bag
And rolled up the honoured bundle that Australians call a swag;
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Dust, dust, dust and a dog –
Oh! The sheep-dog won’t be last.
When the long, long, shadow of the old bay horse
With the shadow of his mate is cast.
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