The Dream and the Cup
Here my fancy finished; so,
Dreaming, I could clearly see
How he galloped. This was no
Spectacle of misery.
There I gazed, upon my pet
Leading ev'ry other horse.
I can see the picture yet.
Later I was at the course.
I can see the picture yet:
Leading ev'ry other horse.
There I gazed upon my pet
Spectacle of misery!
How he galloped! This was no
Dreaming! I could clearly see
Here, my fancy finished - so!
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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A Haven Marred
Jones is a man exceeding meek
And henpecked, so his neighbours say,
Who, one glad evening every week,
Sought sanctuary in his queer way.
At his suburban picture show
He'd sit and gloat, in mood serene,
Quite recompensed for all his woe
To see dumb women on the screen.
But now the picture house he shuns;
His week becomes one weary drag;
For, 'mid the crash of 'he-men's' guns,
Even the female shadows nag!
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Cherchez La Femme
The Chinese are an old, old race,
In mystic lore exceeding wise.
Accustomed thro' the year to trace
Their nation's fortunes in the skies.
No mere male deity can shake
Their stolid and celestial calm.
Saturn nor Jupiter can wake
Their fear or cause the slightest qualm.
But now in trembling fear they go,
Such is their knowledge of the stars.
When Venus threatens well they know
She's far more dangerous than Mars.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Black-Out
These English actors are too mild,
Who seek to have their wrongs redressed.
No manager may be beguiled
By supplication or request.
Some sterner action is required,
A union boss they should engage,
If coloured folk are not desired
To 'crab their acts' upon the stage.
Ours is the method when in doubt;
And they should follow in our track.
And, if they'd keep these niggers out,
They promptly should 'declare them black.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Eats
When Willie gets a penny piece
Straight to the lollie-shop he flies,
And, heartened by his wealth's increase,
Reviews the stock with bulging eyes.
And so it is thro' all our lives,
Till Death declares the tale complete;
Man ever toils and yearns and strives
With eyes on something good to eat.
With little child or stout M.P.
Old Nature varies not her plan;
When either has the £.s.d.
His thoughts fly to the inner man.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Black and White
They fights their fights and they hunt their game,
As they did before the white man came,
Far in the unexplored Outback,
Where still Australia's mostly black.
They little know of white men's laws,
Or of Australia's cherished cause,
Or any of that bag of tricks
Of policies or politics.
Yet, tho' they little dream of it,
Our wild black brothers do their bit;
For while they hanker for a fight
They help to keep Australia white.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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French Leave
No longer wilful woman hides
Behind a law that over-rides
The dicta of her lawful lord and master.
And, they who fain would lift a hand
To erring wives, now understand
That they invite no subsequent disaster.
So, be the boss in your own home;
And, should a naughty missus roam
Unheeding, let no fear of gaol unman you.
And, in the good, old-fashioned way,
Thrash her. The law declares you may.
he only question now-a-days is - Can you?
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Upon the Road to Rockabout
Upon the road to Rockabout
I came upon some sheep -
A large and woolly flock about
As wide as it was deep.
I was about to turn about
To ask the man to tell
Some things I wished to learn about
Both sheep and wool as well,
When I beheld a rouseabout
Who lay upon his back
Beside a little house about
A furlong from the track.
I had a lot to talk about,
And said to him "Good day."
But he got up to walk about,
And so I went away -
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Preface: Old Gosh Rhyme
Let him who is minded to meet with a Glug
Pluck three hardy hairs from a rabbit-skin rug;
Blow one to the South, and one to the West,
Then burn another and swallow the rest.
And who shall explain 'tis the talk of a fool,
He's a Glug! He's a Glug of the old Gosh school!
And he'll climb a tree, if the East wind blows,
In a casual way, just to show he knows . . .
Now, tickle his toes!
Oh, tickle his toes!
And don't blame me if you come to blows.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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A change of Air
Now, a man in Oodnadatta
He grew fat, and he grew fatter,
Though he hardly had a thing to eat for dinner;
While a man in Booboorowie
Often sat and wondered how he
Could prevent himself from growing any thinner.
So the man from Oodnadatta
He came down to Booboorowie,
Where he rapidly grew flatter;
And the folk will tell you how he
Urged the man from Booboorowie
To go up to Oodnadatta -
Where he lived awhile, and now he
Is considerably fatter.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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