Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

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

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis Poems

81. The Warrior King 8/30/2012
82. The Fall Of Fitzmickle 8/30/2012
83. The Gloomy Victorian 8/30/2012
84. Mr Fitzmickle Has A Test Match Fright 8/30/2012
85. One Hundred Years 8/30/2012
86. The Exception 8/30/2012
87. The Bulldog Breed 8/30/2012
88. The Bench And The Blonde In Black 8/30/2012
89. The Mirror 8/30/2012
90. The Fate Of A Harpist 8/30/2012
91. Old Jim Shore 8/30/2012
92. Wangaratta 8/30/2012
93. Walhalla 8/30/2012
94. The Faith Of Old George Jones [2] 8/30/2012
95. The Lyre-Tailed Menura 8/30/2012
96. The Indian Myna 8/30/2012
97. The Shrine 8/30/2012
98. The Boobook Owl 8/30/2012
99. The Madman 8/30/2012
100. The Goldfinch 8/30/2012
101. The Magpie Lark 8/30/2012
102. John Galsworthy 8/30/2012
103. The Exiles 8/30/2012
104. The Old White Horse 8/30/2012
105. The Dove Has A Word 8/30/2012
106. Leg Theory 8/30/2012
107. The Battler 8/30/2012
108. The Wicket Cricket Critic 8/30/2012
109. 'The Wonga Pigeon' 8/30/2012
110. The Dusky Wood-Swallow 8/30/2012
111. 'The Yellow Tailed Thornbill' 8/30/2012
112. The Farmer's Lament 8/30/2012
113. Our Rampant Coat-Of-Arms 8/30/2012
114. The Old Brass Rail 8/30/2012
115. The League Of Youth 8/30/2012
116. The Kindly Copper 8/30/2012
117. The Kick 8/30/2012
118. There's A Good Time Coming 8/30/2012
119. The Grey Fantail 8/30/2012
120. This Momentous Mummery 8/30/2012
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!

You And I

They say the eagle is a bird
That sees some splendid sights
When he soars high into the sky
Upon his dizzy flights:
He sees the ground for miles around
Our house, and Billy Johnson's;
But we can not be Eagles, for
That would, of course, be nonsense.

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