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than their English models; and the fact that their contents were Australian

was not sufficient in itself to obtain for them adequate support。

Newspapers have played a far more important part in our literary world。

‘The Australasian'; ‘Sydney Mail' and ‘Queenslander' have done a good deal

to encourage local writers; but the most powerful influence

has been that of ‘The Bulletin'; started in Sydney in 1880。

Its racy; irreverent tone and its humour are characteristically Australian;

and through its columns the first realistic Australian verse of any importance

 the writings of Henry Lawson and A。 B。 Paterson  became widely known。

When published in book form; their verses met with phenomenal success;

Paterson's 〃The Man from Snowy River〃 (1895) having already attained

a circulation of over thirty thousand copies。  It is the first

of a long series of volumes; issued during the last ten years; whose character

is far more distinctively Australian than that of their predecessors。

Their number and success are evidences of the lively interest taken

by the present generation here in its native literature。



Australia has now come of age; and is becoming conscious

of its strength and its possibilities。  Its writers to…day are; as a rule;

self…reliant and hopeful。  They have faith in their own country;

they write of it as they see it; and of their work and their joys and fears;

in simple; direct language。  It may be that none of it is poetry

in the grand manner; and that some of it is lacking in technical finish;

but it is a vivid and faithful portrayal of Australia; and its ruggedness

is in character。  It is hoped that this selection from the verse that has been

written up to the present time will be found a not unworthy contribution

to the great literature of the English…speaking peoples。











William Charles Wentworth。







  Australasia





Celestial poesy! whose genial sway

Earth's furthest habitable shores obey;

Whose inspirations shed their sacred light;

Far as the regions of the Arctic night;

And to the Laplander his Boreal gleam

Endear not less than Phoebus' brighter beam; 

Descend thou also on my native land;

And on some mountain…summit take thy stand;

Thence issuing soon a purer font be seen

Than charmed Castalia or famed Hippocrene;

And there a richer; nobler fane arise;

Than on Parnassus met the adoring eyes。

And tho'; bright goddess; on the far blue hills;

That pour their thousand swift pellucid rills

Where Warragamba's rage has rent in twain

Opposing mountains; thundering to the plain;

No child of song has yet invoked thy aid

'Neath their primeval solitary shade; 

Still; gracious Pow'r; some kindling soul inspire;

To wake to life my country's unknown lyre;

That from creation's date has slumbering lain;

Or only breathed some savage uncouth strain;

And grant that yet an Austral Milton's song

Pactolus…like flow deep and rich along; 

An Austral Shakespeare rise; whose living page

To nature true may charm in ev'ry age; 

And that an Austral Pindar daring soar;

Where not the Theban eagle reach'd before。

And; O Britannia! shouldst thou cease to ride

Despotic Empress of old Ocean's tide; 

Should thy tamed Lion  spent his former might; 

No longer roar the terror of the fight; 

Should e'er arrive that dark disastrous hour;

When bow'd by luxury; thou yield'st to pow'r; 

When thou; no longer freest of the free;

To some proud victor bend'st the vanquish'd knee; 

May all thy glories in another sphere

Relume; and shine more brightly still than here;

May this; thy last…born infant; then arise;

To glad thy heart and greet thy parent eyes;

And Australasia float; with flag unfurl'd;

A new Britannia in another world。









Charles Harpur。







  Love





She loves me!  From her own bliss…breathing lips

 The live confession came; like rich perfume

 From crimson petals bursting into bloom!

And still my heart at the remembrance skips

Like a young lion; and my tongue; too; trips

 As drunk with joy! while every object seen

 In life's diurnal round wears in its mien

A clear assurance that no doubts eclipse。

And if the common things of nature now

 Are like old faces flushed with new delight;

Much more the consciousness of that rich vow

 Deepens the beauteous; and refines the bright;

 While throned I seem on love's divinest height

'Mid all the glories glowing round its brow。







  Words





Words are deeds。  The words we hear

May revolutionize or rear

A mighty state。  The words we read

May be a spiritual deed

Excelling any fleshly one;

As much as the celestial sun

Transcends a bonfire; made to throw

A light upon some raree…show。

A simple proverb tagged with rhyme

May colour half the course of time;

The pregnant saying of a sage

May influence every coming age;

A song in its effects may be

More glorious than Thermopylae;

And many a lay that schoolboys scan

A nobler feat than Inkerman。







  A Coast View





High 'mid the shelves of a grey cliff; that yet

Riseth in Babylonian mass above;

In a benched cleft; as in the mouldered chair

Of grey…beard Time himself; I sit alone;

And gaze with a keen wondering happiness

Out o'er the sea。  Unto the circling bend

That verges Heaven; a vast luminous plain

It stretches; changeful as a lover's dream 

Into great spaces mapped by light and shade

In constant interchange  either 'neath clouds

The billows darken; or they shimmer bright

In sunny scopes of measureless expanse。

'Tis Ocean dreamless of a stormy hour;

Calm; or but gently heaving;  yet; O God!

What a blind fate…like mightiness lies coiled

In slumber; under that wide…shining face!

While o'er the watery gleam  there where its edge

Banks the dim vacancy; the topmost sails

Of some tall ship; whose hull is yet unseen;

Hang as if clinging to a cloud that still

Comes rising with them from the void beyond;

Like to a heavenly net; drawn from the deep

And carried upward by ethereal hands。









William Forster。







  ‘The Love in her Eyes lay Sleeping'





   The love in her eyes lay sleeping;

   As stars that unconscious shine;

   Till; under the pink lids peeping;

   I wakened it up with mine;

And we pledged our troth to a brimming oath

   In a bumper of blood…red wine。

   Alas! too well I know

   That it happened long ago;

   Those memories yet remain;

   And sting; like throbs of pain;

   And I'm alone below;

But still the red wine warms; and the rosy goblets glow;

   If love be the heart's enslaver;

   'Tis wine that subdues the head。

   But which has the fairest flavour;

   And whose is the soonest shed?

   Wine waxes in power in that desolate hour

   When the glory of love is dead。

   Love lives on beauty's ray;

   But night comes after day;

   And when the exhausted sun

   His high career has run;

   The stars behind him stay;

And then the light that lasts consoles our darkening way。

   When beauty and love are over;

   And passion has spent its rage;

   And the spectres of memory hover;

   And glare on life's lonely stage;

   'Tis wine that remains to kindle the veins

   And strengthen the steps of age。

   Love takes the taint of years;

   And beauty disappears;

   But wine in worth matures

   The longer it endures;

   And more divinely cheers;

And ripens with the suns and mellows with the spheres。









James Lionel Michael。







  ‘Through Pleasant Paths'





Through pleasant paths; through dainty ways;

   Love leads my feet;

Where beauty shines with living rays;

   Soft; gentle; sweet;

The placid heart at random strays;

And sings; and smiles; and laughs and plays;

And gathers from the summer days

   Their light and heat;

That in its chambers burn and blaze

   And beam and beat。



I throw myself among the ferns

   Under the sha

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