Paddy Magee
What are you doing now, Paddy Magee?
Grafting, or spelling now, Paddy Magee?
Breaking, or branding?
Or overlanding,
Out on the sand ridges, Paddy Magee?
Is your mouth parched, from an all-night spree?
Taking a pick-me-up, Paddy Magee?
Cocktail - or simple soda and b.? -
Which is the 'antidote,' Paddy Magee?
Still 'shook' on some beautiful, blushing she?
Girl in the Bogan side, Paddy Magee?
A hack providing
For moonlight riding,
Side-saddle foolery, Paddy Magee?
Up on the station - or in the town -
Or on the Warrego, droving down,
[...] Read more
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
To a Silent Girl
When the sklll'd fashioner of female faces
Designed your mask, he wrought with cunning fist,
And made a mouth expressly to be kiss'd -
Not for shrill utterance nor pert grimaces.
The curved, ripe lips-above the rounded chin -
He dyed the hue of summer's reddest rose,
Then placed a smile upon them to disclose
A glimpse of white and even pearls within.
Those lips are silent, sweetheart! - but your eyes
Are eloquent, and they love's lesson teach
Better than other woman's aptest speech -
In their soft light the tend'rest language lies.
In womankind - the world has long confess'd -
A silent mouth and speaking eyes are best.
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Devoutly Thankful Lover
So Nell was married yesterday! -
Let's fill a bumper mellow,
And drain it to old Hymen's sway -
And to the lucky fellow.
Time was when 1 was 'gone' on her:
When each day I'd discover
Fresh charms to make my pulses stir,
And-fool-like-act the lover.
Her eyes were bright as stars at night,
Her lips were like to coral,
And Nell was, in her lover's sight,
As beautiful as moral.
But now with joy we drink his health,
Whom Nell did most prefer,
[...] Read more
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Reprobate's Reply
Three droving men, some three weeks sync,
Sat drinking the Queensland rum;
'Twas four a.m. when twa o' them
Saw jock M'Phee succumb.
Hech! they were giddy songs he'd sung,
And the yarns which he'd spun were 'free'! -
For the liquor that nicht had loosed the tongue
O' gudeman Jock M'Phee.
They taul,t the meenister what befell,
So he tuk braw Jock to task:-
'Jock, gie me noo an answer true
To one question I wull ask.
'An' it happened the Laird had stricken ye,
A reprobate, graceless mon,
[...] Read more
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Too Much Light
It was a mighty snug resort, that Sydney-side hotel:
A snug resort where fellows dined 'not wisely, but too well';
The boarders all had gone to bed, and other men departed,
When Pat suggested to his pal 'twas nearly time they started.
They drifted to the closing bar, and asked the sleepy waiter
For two cigars,to light 'em home before the hour grew later;
Pat lit his; while his chum exclaimed, 'Ole chappie, gimme light!
I don't know how you're feeling, but I'm very, very tight!'
... Tis very hard to get a light'-he lurched against the bar,
And most appealingly remarked 'Which is the right cigar?
'Tis difficult to fix it; you guess, p'r'aps, what I mean;
I know you're only smoking one, but I can see fifteen!'
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
At Last
When I am tired, and old and worn,
And harass'd by regret;
When blame, reproach, and worldlings' scorn
On every side are met;
When I have lived long years in vain
And found Life's garlands rue,
Maybe I'll come back again -
At last - at last - to you!
When all the joys and all the zest
Of youthful years have fled,
Maybe that I shall leave the rest
And turn to you instead;
For you, Dear Heart, would never spurn
(With condemnation due!)
If, at the close of all, I turn
Homeward - at last - to you!
[...] Read more
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Wooing o' t
He was a bachelor, gallant and gay
She was a spinster prim -
Pretty and prim, with a wonderful way
Which had captivated him.
Oh! well knew she what he wished to say,
So - never frigid nor freezy -
Molly Maginnis managed that day
To make his saying o' 't easy.
'Bob, I shall get you a wife,' said she,
'Find some nice, dear girl for you;
Bob! please tell me the sort she must be,
Shall her eyes be brown or blue?
'Must she be of the 'plump and the pleasing' sort?
Will the 'slender and willowy' do?'
[...] Read more
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Night Thought
The world around is sleeping,
The stars are bright o'erhead,
The shades of myalls weeping
Upon the sward are spread;
Among the gloomy pinetops
The fitful breezes blow,
And their murmurs seem the music
Of a song of long ago;
Soft, passionate, and wailing
Is the tender old refrain -
With a yearning unavailing -
"Will he no come back again?"
The camp-fire sparks are flying
Up from the pine-log's glow,
The wandering wind is sighing
That ballad sweet and low;
The drooping branches gleaming
In the firelight, sway and stir;
And the bushman's brain is dreaming
[...] Read more
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Summer Midnight
Athwart the star-lit midnight sky
Luminous fleecy clouds drift by,
As the mysterious, pallid moon
Sinks in the waveless still lagoon.
Now that the queen of night is dead,
The starry commonwealth o'erhead
(Softer and fairer than gaudy day)
Sheds lustrous light from the Milky Way;
While the Dog-star gleams, and the Sisters Seven,
Float tremulously in the misty heaven.
Faintly, afar the horse-bells ring;
Myriads of wakened crickets sing;
And the spirit voices of the night
Sing snatches of fairy music bright,
Old-world melodies - lang syne sung -
Recalling days when the heart was young,
Whose wonderful cadences fall and rise,
As the wind in the casuarina sighs;
And the world seems 'gulfed, this summer night,
In a flood of delicious, dreamy light.
[...] Read more
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Short Shrift
I can mind him at the start -
Easy seat and merry heart!
Said he, as he threw a glance
At the crawling ambulance:
'Some day I'll be on the ground
And the van will hurry round!
Doc. will gravely wag his head:
'No use now! the poor chap's dead!'
'Every man must, soon or late,
Turn up at the Golden Gate:
When we weigh in - you and I -
How can horsemen better die!'
On that sunlit steeple course
He lay prone beneath his horse,
[...] Read more
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!