Banjo Paterson

(17 February 1864 – 5 February 1941 / New South Wales)

Banjo Paterson Poems

161. The Fitzroy Blacksmith 1/1/2004
162. Hawker, The Standard Bearer 1/1/2004
163. The Bushfire - An Allegory 1/1/2004
164. Saltbush Bill On The Patriarchs 1/1/2004
165. Our Mat 1/1/2004
166. The Man From Goondiwindi, Q. 1/1/2004
167. Camouflage 1/1/2004
168. T.Y.S.O.N. 1/1/2004
169. The Lost Drink 1/1/2004
170. The Travelling Post Office 1/1/2004
171. The Story Of Mongrel Grey 1/1/2004
172. Fed Up 1/1/2004
173. The Man Who Was Away 1/1/2004
174. Rio Grande 1/1/2004
175. Come-By-Chance 1/1/2004
176. The Hypnotist 1/1/2004
177. The Dam That Keele Built 1/1/2004
178. He Giveth His Beloved Sleep 1/1/2004
179. The Seven Ages Of Wise 1/1/2004
180. The Plains 1/1/2004
181. Tom Collins 1/1/2004
182. The Billy-Goat Overland 1/1/2004
183. Daylight Is Dying 1/1/2004
184. The Wreck Of The Golfer 1/1/2004
185. Hay And Hell And Booligal 1/1/2004
186. El Mahdi To The Australian Troops 1/1/2004
187. The Old Timer's Steeplechase 1/1/2004
188. Santa Claus 1/1/2004
189. Johnny Boer 1/1/2004
190. Bottle 'O' 1/1/2004
191. The Daylight Is Dying 1/1/2004
192. The Ghost Of The Murderer's Hut 1/1/2004
193. Conroy's Gap 1/1/2004
194. Rio Grande's Last Race 1/1/2004
195. Reconstruction 1/1/2004
196. Saltbush Bill 1/1/2004
197. The City Of Dreadful Thirst 1/1/2004
198. Buffalo Country 1/1/2004
199. Behind The Scenes 1/1/2004
200. Saltbush Bill, J.P. 1/1/2004

Comments about Banjo Paterson

  • Chuck Norris (10/9/2014 8:00:00 PM)

    This Guy is a sick lad bruh.

    30 person liked.
    12 person did not like.
  • Mark Paterson (7/5/2010 2:24:00 PM)

    How right he was. Too late now. No heed was taken.

Best Poem of Banjo Paterson

The Man From Snowy River

There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around
That the colt from old Regret had got away,
And had joined the wild bush horses - he was worth a thousand pound,
So all the cracks had gathered to the fray.
All the tried and noted riders from the stations near and far
Had mustered at the homestead overnight,
For the bushmen love hard riding where the wild bush horses are,
And the stock-horse snuffs the battle with delight.

There was Harrison, who made his pile when Pardon won the cup,
The old man with his hair as white as snow;
But ...

Read the full of The Man From Snowy River

The Last Parade

With never a sound of trumpet,
With never a flag displayed,
The last of the old campaigners
Lined up for the last parade.

Weary they were and battered,
Shoeless, and knocked about;
From under their ragged forelocks
Their hungry eyes looked out.

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