Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
At The "J. C."
None ever knew his name,Honoured, or one of shame,Highborn or lowly;Only upon that treeTwo letters, J and C,Carved by him, mark where heLay dying..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
Jack Corrigan
"It's my shout this time, boys, so come along andbreast the bar,And kindly mention what you're going to take;I don't feel extra thirsty, so I'll..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
Jimmy Wood
There came a lonely Briton to the town,A solitary Briton with a mission,He’d vowed a vow to put all “shouting” down,To relegate it to a low..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
From The Far West
'Tis a song of the Never Never land—Set to the tune of a scorching galeOn the sandhills red,When the grasses deadLoudly rustle, and bow the headTo..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
How Polly Paid For Her Keep
Do I know Polly Brown? Do I know her? Why,damme,You might as well ask if I know my own name?It's a wonder you never heard tell of old Sammy,Her..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
On The Range
On Nungar the mists of the morning hung low,The beetle-browed hills brooded silent and black,Not yet warmed to life by the sun's loving glow,As..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
Josephus Riley
The rum was rich and rare,There were wagers in the air,The atmosphere was rosy, and the tongues werewagging free;But one was in the revelWhose..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
Jim's Whip
Yes, there it hangs upon the wallAnd never gives a sound,The hand that trimmed its greenhide fallIs hidden underground,There, in that patch of sallee..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
A Vision Out West
Far reaching down's a solid sea sunk everlastingly to rest,And yet whose billows seem to be for ever heaving toward the westThe tiny fieldmice make..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
A Wayside Queen
She was born in the season of fire,When a mantle of murkiness layOn the front of the crimson Destroyer:And none knew the name of her sireBut the..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
Desiree
Will she spring with a blush from the arms of Dawn,When the sleepy songsters pruneTheir dewy vestments on bush and thorn,And the jovial magpie winds..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
Fogarty's Gin
A sweat-dripping horse and a half-naked myall,And a message: ‘Come out to the back of the run—Be out at the stake-yards by rising of sun!Ride hard..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
Featherstonhaugh
Brookong station lay half-asleepDozed in the waning western glare('Twas before the run had stocked with sheepAnd only cattle depastured there)As the..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
An Allegory
The fight was over, and the battle wonA soldier, who beneath his chieftain’s eyeHad done a might deed and done it well,And done it as the world will..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
A Memory
Adown the grass-grown paths we strayed,The evening cowslips ope’dTheir yellow eyes to look at her,The love-sick lilies mopedWith envy that she rather..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
Where The Dead Men Lie
Out on the wastes of the Never Never -That's where the dead men lie!There where the heat-waves dance forever -That's where the dead men lie!That's..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
A Valentine
A Valentine The Bree was up; the floods were outAround the hut of Culgo Jim:The hand of God had broke the droughtAnd filled the channels to the..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
A Bushman's Love
You say we bushmen cannot love—Our lives are too prosaic: henceWe lose or lack that finer senseThat raises some few men aboveTheir fellows, setting..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
Down The River
Hark, the sound of it drawing nearer,Clink of hobble and brazen bell;Mark the passage of stalwart shearer,Bidding Monaro soil farewell.Where is he..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
A Song
I've a kiss from a warmer loverThan maiden earth can be:She blew it up to the skies above her,And now it has come to me;From the far-away it has come..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
A Song From A Sandhill
Drip, drip, drip! It tinkles on the fly—The pitiless outpouring of an overburdened sky:Each drooping frond of pine has got a jewel at its tip—First a..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
A Song From A Sandhill
Drip, drip, drip! It tinkles on the fly—The pitiless outpouring of an overburdened sky:Each drooping frond of pine has got a jewel at its tip—First a..
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
Zone
We have struck the regions wherein we are keel or reef.The wind breaks over us,And against high sharp angles almost splits into words,And these are..
© Louise Bogan
To Be Sung On The Water
Beautiful, my delight,Pass, as we pass the wave.Pass, as the mottled nightLeaves what it cannot save,Scattering dark and bright.Beautiful, pass and..
© Louise Bogan
Statue And Birds
Here, in the withered arbor, like the arrested wind,Straight sides, carven knees,Stands the statue, with hands flung out in alarmOr..
© Louise Bogan