Henry Lawson

(17 June 1867 – 2 September 1922 / Grenfell, New South Wales)

Henry Lawson Poems

81. The Things We Dare Not Tell 1/3/2003
82. The Teams 12/31/2002
83. The Swagman And His Mate 3/27/2010
84. The Stringy-Bark Tree 3/27/2010
85. The Stranger's Friend 3/27/2010
86. The Stranded Ship: (The “vincennes”) 3/27/2010
87. The Statue Of Our Queen 3/27/2010
88. The Star Of Australasia 12/31/2002
89. The Squatter’s Daughter 3/27/2010
90. The Squatter, Three Cornstalks, And The Well 3/27/2010
91. The Spirits Of Our Fathers 3/27/2010
92. The Spirits For Good 3/27/2010
93. The Southerly Buster 3/27/2010
94. The Soul Of A Poet 3/27/2010
95. The Sorrows Of A Simple Bard 3/27/2010
96. The Song Of The Waste-Paper Basket 3/27/2010
97. The Song Of The Darling River 1/3/2003
98. The Song Of Old Joe Swallow 12/31/2002
99. The Song Of Australia 1/1/2004
100. The Song Of A Prison 3/27/2010
101. The Song And The Sigh 12/31/2002
102. The Soldier Birds 3/29/2010
103. The Sliprails And The Spur 12/31/2002
104. The Sleeping Beauty 3/27/2010
105. The Skyline Riders 3/27/2010
106. The Ships That Won'T Go Down 1/1/2004
107. The Shearers Dream 1/1/2004
108. The Shearers 1/1/2004
109. The Shanty On The Rise 12/31/2002
110. The Shame Of Going Back 12/31/2002
111. The Shakedown On The Floor 3/27/2010
112. The Separation 3/27/2010
113. The Separated Women 3/27/2010
114. The Secret Whisky Cure 3/27/2010
115. The Seabolt's Volunteers 3/27/2010
116. The Seabolt's Volunteers 3/29/2010
117. The Scots [a Dirge] 3/27/2010
118. The Scamps 3/27/2010
119. The Rush To London 3/27/2010
120. The Rovers 3/27/2010
Best Poem of Henry Lawson

After All


The brooding ghosts of Australian night have gone from the bush and town;
My spirit revives in the morning breeze,
though it died when the sun went down;
The river is high and the stream is strong,
and the grass is green and tall,
And I fain would think that this world of ours is a good world after all.

The light of passion in dreamy eyes, and a page of truth well read,
The glorious thrill in a heart grown cold of the spirit I thought was dead,
A song that goes to a comrade's heart, and a tear of pride let fall --
And my soul is strong! and the ...

Read the full of After All

`for'Ard'


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 sheep, --
They are trav'lers for the most part in a straight 'n' honest path;
But their linen's rather scanty, an' there isn't any bath --
Stowed away like ewes and wethers that is shore 'n' marked 'n' draft.
But the shearers of the shearers always seem to travel aft;
In the cushioned cabins, aft,
With saloons 'n' smoke-rooms, aft --

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