Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

[C. J. Dennis] (7 September 1876 - 22 June 1938 / Auburn, South Australia)

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis Poems

641. A Few Remarks On Goats, Asses And The Dead Hand 9/4/2012
642. A Beauty Hint 8/31/2012
643. Beauty's Blemish 8/31/2012
644. A Bush Christmas 8/31/2012
645. Geelong 8/30/2012
646. A Fair Exchange 8/30/2012
647. As Old George Said 8/29/2012
648. A Case For Kings 8/29/2012
649. A Fair Warning 8/29/2012
650. A Duty Done - 1935 8/28/2012
651. A Spring Song 3/21/2012
652. The Dominant Male 8/28/2012
653. The Spotted Heifers 1/1/2004
654. The Traveller 1/1/2004
655. The White Foxglove 1/1/2004
656. A Chantey Of Labor's Lost 8/28/2012
657. A Forest Scene 8/30/2012
658. A Different Meaning 9/5/2012
659. When The Sun's Behind The Hill 9/4/2012
660. A Cricket Casualty 8/29/2012
661. Hakim Kahn 8/29/2012
662. Early Morning Tea 8/29/2012
663. Heat-Wave 8/30/2012
664. Drapers Dummies 8/30/2012
665. Galloping Days 8/28/2012
666. Erb 8/31/2012
667. The Deadly Dummy 8/31/2012
668. The Censor 9/3/2012
669. Ginger's Cobber 9/3/2012
670. The Dark Horse 9/1/2012
671. Autumn Interlude 8/28/2012
672. Arch Criminal 8/29/2012
673. A Letter To The Front 3/21/2012
674. Art Is Long - Hair Is Shorter 8/30/2012
675. Get Work 9/4/2012
676. An Old Master 3/21/2012
677. Anzac Eve 9/3/2012
678. Armistice: To His Dead Cobber From The Sentimental Bloke 8/31/2012
679. Gentlemen! 9/4/2012
680. The Chase Of Ages 9/5/2012
Best Poem of Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

Hist!

Hist! . . . . . . Hark!
The night is very dark,
And we've to go a mile or so
Across the Possum Park.

Step . . . . . . light,
Keeping to the right;
If we delay, and lose our way,
We'll be out half the night.
The clouds are low and gloomy. Oh!
It's just begun to mist!
We haven't any overcoats
And - Hist! . . . . . . Hist!

(Mo . . . . . . poke!)
Who was that that spoke?
This is not a fitting spot
To make a silly joke.

Dear . . . . . . me!
A mopoke in a tree!
It jarred me so, I didn't know
Whatever it could be.
But come along;...

Read the full of Hist!

Old Farmer Jack

Old farmer Jack gazed on his wheat,
And feared the frost would nip it.
Said he, "it's nearly seven feet -
I must begin to strip 'it.

He stripped it with a stripper and
He bagged it with a bagger;
The bags were all so lumpy that
They made the bumper stagger.

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