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

Our Cow

Down by the slipralls stands our cow
Chewing, chewing, chewing,
She does not care what folks out there
In the great, big world are doing.
She sees the small cloud-shadows pass
And green grass shining under.
If she does think, what does she think
About it all, I wonder?

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