The Austral-aise
Fellers of Australier,
Blokes an' coves an' coots,
Shift yer --- carcases,
Move yer --- boots.
Gird yer --- loins up,
Get yer --- gun,
Set the --- enermy
An' watch the blighters run.
CHORUS:
Get a --- move on,
Have some --- sense.
Learn the --- art of
Self de- --- -fence.
Have some --- brains be-
Neath yer --- lids.
An' swing a --- sabre
Fer the missus an' the kids.
Chuck supportin' --- posts,
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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My Epitaph
Oh, praise me now if you would please
My soul with soothing flatteries.
Praise with my living clay agrees.
'Tis sweet, I vow.
Give me kind words while I can feel
The modest blushes gently steal,
What time my virtues you reveal.
Oh, praise me now!
For, when the vital spark has fled,
No matter what kind words are said,
I'll simply go on being dead
And take no heed.
Or if, perchance, beneath the clay,
I hear some kindly critic say,
'He was a boshter'in his day!'
'Twere hard indeed.
'Twere bitter hard to be confined,
Gagged by grim Death, while fellows kind
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Shrine
For them we have builded a temple
To stand as a visible sign.
For them we have builded a temple,
And set in its great heart a shrine.
Ere the dull years shall tarnish their story,
While the spirit bides close to us yet,
We have set up a shrine to their glory,
Lest men should forget.
We have raised upa visible temple,
Hewn from impermanent stone;
And the spirit shall dwell in the temple;
Yet not in the temple alone.
Lest the spirit of that great oblation,
Eternal, transcending all pride,
Dwell, too, in the heart of their nation,
In vain they have died.
For a holier place has enshrined them
From treacherous time's swift decay:
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Hundreds And Thousands
But a scant 2000 folk, no more,
Sitting solemn-faced within the pews,
While the parsons preach and outward pour,
In divers tones, their own peculiar views.
Folk of sobriety,
'Proddies' and 'Pats,'
Breathing their piety
Into their hats;
Glowing with holiness,
Stern and austere;
Kneeling in lowliness,
Meek and sincere.
Only 2000.
Gaily 50,000 folk or so
Travel to and fro in tram and train;
Godless Jeremiah, Jim and Joe,
Giddy Gerty, Gwendoline and Jane.
Bent on frivolity,
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Old Town Types No. 6 - Flash Phil
Still I've the picture of him - Flash Phil Galloway;
In a shining dog-cart driving down the road;
Spanking ponies dashing by,
Running tandem, stepping high;
Silver-plated harness where the sunlight glowed.
Everybody waved to him - Kind Phil Galloway
Bright eye, curling hair, big blond moustache.
No man, in those feckless days,
Thought to curb his reckless ways:
'Right man for the district, sir; tho' just a trifle rash.'
Flash Phil Galloway owned a station property
Left him by his father, back in sixty-nine;
Owned a stretch of sheepland, too,
Left him by his Uncle Lou;
Owned his mother's big estate along the Ballantyne
Three tidy fortunes: and Phil upon a race day
Standing for a luncheon - frills and fancy grub.
'Champagne and caviar,
Every toff a big cigar,
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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A Fair Spin
Righto!
I'll give the game a go.
They say I should be circumspect; but I don't care a hang.
I'll bang
The cows in slang . .
'Ere! Wot's the game?
Don't this Australia want a decent name
For treatin' other blokes all on the square?
I wouldn't dare
To sell crook rabbits down in Spadger's land;
Fer, if the ole tarts down there should complain
Jist once, why, all me custom
Would go right up the pole.
Upon me soul!
Yeh see, I trust 'em
An' they trust me.
Because they say, 'This rabbito, why 'e
Gives us a dinkum spin.
'E wouldn't take us in.'
Now, ain't that nice?
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Cosinic Curve
Callithumpus Kevin Kerr was a young astronomer,
Rich and handsome, eligible, sound and single,
Somewhat absent as to mind, and peculiarly inclined
To allow his love quest and his work to mingle.
'Jupiter,' said he, 'and Mars, all fixed and unfixed stars
And their orbits mid the circular have tarried;
There is nothing straight nor square in the heavens anywhere
Which reminds me, I should think of getting married.'
Clementina Mumphin-Moore was a modern girl who wore
Slinky frocks, and her slimming concentrated.
Thus, her health was far from good; but Matilda Mabel Wood
Was circular in shape - cats said 'inflated.'
Both these girls, the thick and thin, were most interested in
Callithumpus Kevin Kerr, who so auterely
Walked with face turned to the sky; each one rolled a roguish eye
'With view above,' for each one loved him dearly.
Callithumpus Kerr one day went a-mumbling on his way,
And both maids watched him as he conned his table:
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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An Echo from Africa
Da ruction happen by Nicko's place
Las' week, in da deada da night.
Da copper he very near cop da case
Accounta da fish-shop fight
In da great beeg international way
Dat wrecka da oyster bar.
Now Nicko he grinda da tooth an' say,
'Da white-a man rule, by gar!'
Sammo, da slush, wit' da dark-tan face,
Scale an' clean-a fish
Long time he toila by Nicko's place,
Washa da dirty dish.
But Nicko he say, 'Da t'ings get slow;
Dis war make da beezness slack.
Dat Sammo, da slush, he have to go.'
So Nicko he sacka da black.
Las-a night, when Sammo he come for da mon',
His eye got da look like-a dirt.
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Election Aftermath
1. ANTE-ELECTIONS
Now, a cove the name of Blabb, a politician,
He's a haughty sort o' high pan-jan-dee-ram;
An' he holds a very dignified position
As the member for the districk where I am.
There is times he seems to faintly reckernise me
Jist a flutter of his flipper when we meet;
Yet, other times, his actions fair surprise me,
When with a very icy eye he eyes me,
Jist as if he never knoo me in the street.
But who am I to seek his hand to grab?
So I simply sez, 'Good mornin', Mr Blabb.'
An' passes on.
'An' I hopes you're doin' nicely, Mr Blabb.'
2. ELECTIONS
Now, a cove the name of Blabb, a politician,
Is a pal o' mine, an' most perlite, at that.
He's a candidate again for th eposition
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Germ Chaser
I knew a careful lady once
Who read a book by Dr. Bunce,
A wise authority on wogs
That roam about in dust and fogs;
Indeed, he pointed out, all air,
However pure, held germs somewhere;
They clung to door-knobs, crawled on floors,
Inhabited small change in scores.
In fact, there scarcely was a thing
To which some foul germ did not cling,
Ready to leap and work its will
To some poor luckless human's ill.
The lady closed the book and sighed,
And all content within her died.
This pleasant earth for her became
The haunt of wogs, and life a game
Of hide and seek. She joined the band
Of grim germ-chasers in the land.
She scoured and scrubbed, examined food -
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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