Mary Eliza Fullerton
Mary Eliza Fullerton (14 May 1868 - 23 February 1946) was an Australian writer.
Fullerton was born in Glenmaggie, Victoria, was educated at home by her mother and at the local state school. After leaving school she stayed on her parents property, until she moved to Melbourne in her early twenties. She was active in the women's suffrage movement from the 1890s and early 1900s. During ... more »
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Mary Eliza Fullerton Poems
I have seen a gum-tree, Scarred by the blaze Of the pioneer axe,
The Selector’s Wife
The quick compunction cannot serve; She saw the flash, Ere he had bent with busy hand And drooping lash.
O BOWL that held the hot imprisoned fire, Cup where the sacred essence used to burn— That fluent essence that shall ne’er return—
A Man's a Sliding Mood
Ardent in love and cold in charity, Loud in the market, timid in debate: Scornful of foe unbuckled in the dust
My annals have it so: A thing my mother saw, Nigh eighty years ago, With happiness and awe.
Shall they not praise the cogs, Praise the pistons and wheels, And still be poets To whom appeals
Civilization said long ago, “Man is fixt and set, Unchanging now, Amid the fret
To be unloved brings sweet relief: The strong adoring eyes Play the eternal thief
Parasite lichen Lies grey on the years; Lily buries herself When winter appears.
Nina’s cross: her alphabet Flung upon the floor. Hoity toity! in a pet, Wanting something more.
At an old water-hole, Bones lay in the hide And teeth gibbered up
If I let go my strength To hold your twisted strand, It could but sear at length, And hurt my coward hand.
Comments about Mary Eliza Fullerton
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
I have seen a gum-tree,
Scarred by the blaze
Of the pioneer axe,
Mend after long days;
Lip to lip shut
Of the separate bark,
Till the gape of the wound
Was a vanishing mark.
I have seen in the hunt
The pulse of rent flesh;
Seen the fingers of Time
Unite it afresh.
I have heard a man’s cry
As the teeth of the mill
Bit marrow and bone—
To hurt, not to kill.
Oh, strong is the flesh
To cure and defend:
’Tis but the stopt heart
That Time cannot mend.