The Rush To London

You're off away to London now,
Where no one dare ignore you,
With Southern laurels on your brow,
And all the world before you.
But if you should return again,
Forgotten and unknowing,
Then one shall wait in wind and rain,
Where forty cheered you going.

Youre off away to London, proved,
Where fair girls shall adore you;
The poor, plain face of one that loved
May never rise before you.
But if you should return again,
When young blood ceases flowing,
Then one shall wait in wind and rain,
Where forty cheered you going.

It may be carelessly you spoke
Of never more returning,
But sometimes in the London smoke,
Youll smell the gum leaves burning;
And think of how the grassy plain
Beyond the fog is flowing,
And one that waits in shine or rain,
Where forty cheered you going.

Henry Lawson

Henry Lawson was an Australian writer and poet. Along with Banjo Paterson, he is among the best-known Australian poets and fiction writers of the colonial period and is often called Australia's 'greatest short story writer'. His works frequently document the lives and struggles of rural and outback Australians. Lawson's own life was marked by hardship and struggles including impaired hearing and financial difficulties, which influenced his realist depictions of Australian life. Some of his notable works include 'While the Billy Boils' and 'In the Days When the World was Wide.'

Henry Lawson

The Seabolts Volunteers

Henry Lawson, Simple Poetry

The Christ Of The 'Never'

Henry Lawson, Simple Poetry

The Stranded Ship (The Vincennes)

Henry Lawson, Simple Poetry

Lets Be Fools To-Night or, The Three Partners

Henry Lawson, Simple Poetry

English

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The Way Of The World

When fairer faces turn from me,
And gayer friends grow cold,
And I have lost through poverty
The friendship bought with gold;
When I have served the selfish turn
Of some all-worldly few,
And Follys lamps have ceased to burn,
Then Ill come back to you.

When my admirers find Im not
The rising star they thought,
And praise or blame is all forgot
My early promise brought;
When brighter rivals lead a host
Where once I led a few,
And kinder times reward their boast,
Then Ill come back to you.

You loved me, not for what I had
Or what I might have been,
You saw the good, but not the bad,
Was kind, for that between.
I know that youll forgive again,
That you will judge me true;
Ill be too tired to explain
When I come ...

Henry Lawson

The Bush Girl

So you rode from the range where your brothers select,
Through the ghostly grey bush in the dawn
You rode slowly at first, lest her heart should suspect
That you were glad to be gone;

You had scarcely the courage to glance back at her
By the homestead receding from view,
And you breathed with relief as you rounded the spur,
For the world was a wide world to you.

Grey eyes that grow sadder than sunset or rain,
Fond heart that is ever more true
Firm faith that grows firmer for watching in vain
Shell wait by the sliprails for you.

Ah! The world is a new and a wide one to you,
But the world to your sweetheart is shut,
For a change never comes to the lonely Bush girl
From the stockyard, the bush, and the hut;

And the only relief from the ...

Henry Lawson

A Voice From The City

On western plain and eastern hill
Where once my fancy ranged,
The station hands are riding still
And they are little changed.
But I have lost in London gloom
The glory of the day,
The grand perfume of wattle bloom
Is faint and far away.
Brown faces under broad-brimmed hats
The grip of wiry hands,
The gallops on the frosty flats,
Seem dreams of other lands;
The camp fire and the stars that blaze
Above the mystic plain
Are but the thoughts of vanished days
That never come again.

The evening star I seldom view,
That led me on to roam,
I never see the morning star
That used to draw me home.
But I have often longed for day
To hide the few I see,
Because they only point and say
Most bitter things to me.

I wear my l...

Henry Lawson

From The Bush

The Channel fog has lifted,
And see where we have come!
Round all the world we've drifted,
A hundred years from "home".
The fields our parents longed for,
Ah! we shall ne'er know how,
The wealth that they were wronged for
We'll see as strangers now!

The Dover cliffs have passed on,
In the morning light aglow,
That our fathers looked their last on
A weary time ago.
Now grin, and grin your bravest!
We need be strong to fight;
For you go home to picture
And I go home to write.

Hold up your head in England,
Tread firm on London streets;
We come from where the strong heart
Of all Australia beats!
Hold up your head in England
However poor you roam!
For no men are your betters
Who never sailed from home!

From ...

Henry Lawson

Bound For The Lord-Knows-Where

Where are you going with your horse and bike,
And the townsfolk still at rest?
Where are you going, with your swag and pack,
And the night still in the West?
Your clothes are worn, and your cheques are gone,
But your eyes are free from care?
Were bushmen down for a spree in town,
And were bound for the Lord-knows-where,
Old chap, were bound for the Lord-knows-where.

(There are great dark scrubs in the Lord-knows-where,
Where they fight it out alone,
There are wide wide plains in the Lord-knows-where,
Where a mans soul is his own.
There is healthy work, there is healthy rest,
There is peace from self-torture there,
And the glorious freedom from paltriness!
And theyre bound for the Lord-knows-where.)

Now, where are you going in your Su...

Henry Lawson

By Hut, Homestead And Shearing Shed,

By hut, homestead and shearing shed,
By railroad, coach and track,
By lonely graves where rest the dead,
Up-Country and Out-Back:
To where beneath the clustered stars
The dreamy plains expand.

My home lies wide a thousand miles
In Never-Never Land.
It lies beyond the farming belt,
Wide wastes of scrub and plain,
A blazing desert in the drought,
A lake-land after rain;
To the skyline sweeps the waving grass,
Or whirls the scorching sand,
A phantom land, a mystic realm!
The Never-Never Land.

Where lone Mount Desolation lies
Mounts Dreadful and Despair,
'Tis lost beneath the rainless skies
In hopeless deserts there;
It spreads nor-west by No-Man's Land
Where clouds are seldom seen
To where the cattle stations lie
Thr...

Henry Lawson