Henry Lawson

He is coming! He is coming! without heralds, without cheers.
He is coming! He is coming! and he’s been with us for years:
And, if you should pause to wonder who’s the man of whom I sing—... more »

Let the liar call me liar,
And the robber call me thief.
They can only fan the fire
That is born of my belief.... more »

Out in the west, where runs are wide,
And days than ours are hotter,
Not very far from Lachlan Side
There dwelt a wealthy squatter.... more »

Pride, selfishness in every line,
And on its face a frown,
It stands, a sceptre in its hand,
And points forever down.... more »

We come with peace and reason,
We come with love and light,
To banish black self-treason
And everlasting night.... more »

The spirits of our fathers rise not from every wave,
They left the sea behind them long ago;... more »

The East is dead and the West is done, and again our course lies thus
South-east by Fate and the Rising Sun where the Three Kings wait for us.... more »

There is a quiet gentleman a-motoring in France
(Oh, don’t you hear the honking of a British motor-car?)—
Like any quiet gentleman that you may meet by chance,
Who doesn’t wear a uniform, and ...... more »

LO, the gods of Vice and Mammon from their pinnacles are hurled
By the workers’ new religion, which is oldest in the world;... more »

Two poets were born where the skies were fair,
To live in the land thereafter;
And one was a singer of sorrow and care,
And one was a bard of laughter.... more »

A tramp was trampin’ on the road—
The afternoon was warm an’ muggy—
And by-and-by he chanced to meet
A parsin ridin’ in a buggy.... more »

There was a Squatter in the land—
So runs the truthful tale I tell—
There also were three cornstalks, and
There also was the Squatter’s Well.... more »

Farewell! The gold we send shall be a token
Of that which in our hearts is growing strong;
You asked our sympathy, and we have spoken—
“They wrong us who our brothers rob and wrong.”... more »

’Twas the glowing log of a picnic fire where a red light should not be,
Or the curtained glow of a sick room light in a window that faced the sea.... more »

O bard of fortune, you deem me nought
But a mark for your careless scorn.
For I am the echo-less grave of thought
That is strangled before it’s born.... more »

There's a wind that blows out of the South in the drought,
And we pray for the touch of his breath
When siroccos come forth from the North-West and North,
Or in dead calms of fever and death.... more »

The strangest things and the maddest things, that a man can do or say,
To the chaps and fellers and coves Out Back are matters of every day;... more »

From north to south throughout the year
The shearing seasons run,
The Queensland stations start to shear
When Maoriland has done;... more »

The kangaroo was formed to run,
but not from man alone -
it ran before the horse or gun... more »

He longed to be a Back-Blocks Bard,
And fame he wished to win—
He wrote at night and studied hard... more »

Turn the light down, nurse, and leave me, while I hold my last review,
For
the Bush... more »

Fight through ignorance, want, and care —
Through the griefs that crush the spirit;
Push your way to a fortune fair,
And the smiles of the world you’ll merit.... more »

When I tell a tale of virtue and of injured innocence,
Then my publishers and lawyers are the densest of the dense:... more »

You lazy boy, you’re here at last,
You must be wooden-legged;
Now, are you sure the gate is fast
And all the sliprails pegged... more »

Now this is not a dismal song, like some I’ve sung of late,
When I’ve been brooding all day long about my muddled fate;
For though I’ve had a rocky time I’ll never quite forget,
And though I never ...... more »

I have written, long years I have written
For the sake of my people and right,
I was true when the iron had bitten
Deep into my soul in the night;... more »

By Lawson's Hill, near Mudgee,
On old Eurunderee –
The place they called "New Pipeclay",
Where the diggers used to be –... more »

There's the whitebox and pine on the ridges afar,
Where the iron-bark, blue-gum, and peppermint are;
There is many another, but dearest to me,
And the king of them all was the stringy-bark tree.... more »

Oh, Scotty, have you visited the Picture Gallery,
And did you see the portraits of the King and Queen and me?... more »

Behold! the biased foes of Right
Are conscious of their danger,
They’re startled by the dawning light,
So very long a stranger.... more »

From over the leagues of ice and snow, and the miles of scorching sand;
From back of the days of long ago, and the lonely sea and land—... more »

They proved we could not think nor see,
They proved we could not write,
They proved we drank the day away
And raved through half the night.... more »

It has a “point” of neither sex
But comes in guise of both,
And, doubly dangerous complex,
It is a thing to loathe—... more »

Our hull is seldom painted,
Our decks are seldom stoned;
Our sails are patched and cobbled
And chains by rust marooned.... more »

Of home, name and wealth and ambition bereft—
We are children of fortune and luck:
They deny there’s a shred of our characters left,
But they cannot deny us the pluck!... more »

Black Scots and red Scots,
Red Scots and black;
I hae dealt wi’ the red Scot,
An’ dealt wi’ the black.... more »

They towed the Seabolt down the stream,
And through the harbour’s mouth;
She spread her wings and sailed away
To seek the sunny South.... more »

Some born of homely parents
For ages settled down—
The steady generations
Of village, farm, and town:... more »

Against the light of a dawning white
My Skyline Riders stand—
There is trouble ahead for a dark year dead
And the selfish wrongs of a land;... more »

“Call that a yarn!” said old Tom Pugh,
“What rot! I’ll lay my hat
I’ll sling you a yarn worth more nor two
Such pumped-up yarns as that.”... more »