Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

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

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis Poems

121. The Exiles 8/30/2012
122. The Old White Horse 8/30/2012
123. The Dove Has A Word 8/30/2012
124. Leg Theory 8/30/2012
125. The Battler 8/30/2012
126. The Wicket Cricket Critic 8/30/2012
127. The Indian Myna 8/30/2012
128. The Goldfinch 8/30/2012
129. The Magpie Lark 8/30/2012
130. 'The Yellow Tailed Thornbill' 8/30/2012
131. The Farmer's Lament 8/30/2012
132. Our Rampant Coat-Of-Arms 8/30/2012
133. The Old Brass Rail 8/30/2012
134. The League Of Youth 8/30/2012
135. The Kindly Copper 8/30/2012
136. The Kick 8/30/2012
137. There's A Good Time Coming 8/30/2012
138. This Momentous Mummery 8/30/2012
139. Kilts, Ye Ken 8/30/2012
140. The Grey Fantail 8/30/2012
141. Lorne 8/30/2012
142. Ignoramus 8/30/2012
143. Obadiah Bell 8/30/2012
144. We Mean To Say 8/30/2012
145. The Down-Hill Track 8/30/2012
146. The Little Black Cormorant 8/30/2012
147. Intangible Tigers 8/30/2012
148. Kemal - The Posh Pasha 8/30/2012
149. The Old Gunn's Gully Line 8/30/2012
150. The Oil From Bill Shane 8/30/2012
151. Warrnambool 8/30/2012
152. The Eastern Shrike-Tit 8/30/2012
153. The Listening Week 8/30/2012
154. Hoch Der Hausfrau! 8/30/2012
155. The Golden Whistler 8/30/2012
156. 'I Dips Me Lid' 8/30/2012
157. Summer Sanctuary 8/31/2012
158. The Pallid Cuckoo 8/31/2012
159. The Fool And The Fire 8/31/2012
160. How We Backed The Favourite 8/31/2012

Comments about Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

  • Amelia Bright (4/1/2008 3:49:00 AM)

    the reson i have looked this poem up is we are lerning it at bribie island state school it is a good poem for kids my techer learnt it 50 years ago.

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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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