Henry Lawson Poems
|481.||When Your Pants Begin To Go||1/3/2003|
|482.||Up The Country||12/31/2002|
|485.||Australian Bards And Bush Reviewers||12/31/2002|
|486.||From The Bush||1/1/2004|
|488.||At The Beating Of A Drum||1/1/2004|
|489.||As Far As Your Rifles Cover||1/1/2004|
|490.||A Bush Girl||3/26/2010|
|491.||A Song Of Brave Men||1/1/2004|
|493.||A Song Of The Republic||1/1/2004|
|496.||A Prouder Man Than You||12/31/2002|
|499.||Faces In The Street||12/31/2002|
|501.||Andy's Gone With Cattle||12/31/2002|
Read the full of Knocked Up
I'm lyin' on the barren ground that's baked and cracked with drought,
And dunno if my legs or back or heart is most wore out;
I've got no spirits left to rise and smooth me achin' brow --
I'm too knocked up to light a fire and bile the billy now.
Oh it's trampin', trampin', tra-a-mpin', in flies an' dust an' heat,
Or it's trampin' trampin' tra-a-a-mpin'
through mud and slush 'n sleet;
It's tramp an' tramp for tucker -- one everlastin' strife,
An' wearin' out yer boots an' heart in the wastin' of yer life.
They whine ...
The Cambaroora Star
So you're writing for a paper? Well, it's nothing very new
To be writing yards of drivel for a tidy little screw;
You are young and educated, and a clever chap you are,
But you'll never run a paper like the CAMBAROORA STAR.
Though in point of education I am nothing but a dunce,
I myself -- you mayn't believe it -- helped to run a paper once
With a chap on Cambaroora, by the name of Charlie Brown,
And I'll tell you all about it if you'll take the story down.