To-Morrow

When youre suffering hard for your sins, old man,
When you wake to trouble and sleep ill,
Oh, this is the clack of the middle class,
Win back the respect of the people!
You are weak, youre a fool, or a drunken brute
When youre deep in trouble and sorrow;
But walk down the street in a decent suit,
And their hats will be off to-morrow! Old Chap,
And their hats will be off to-morrow!

They cant and they cackle, Redeem the Past!
Who never had past worth redeeming:
Your soul seems dead, but youll find at last
That somewhere your soul lay dreaming.
You may stagger down-hill in a beer-stained coat,
You may loaf, you may cadge and borrow,
But walk down the street with a ten-pound note
And their hats will be off to-morrow! Old Man,
Yes, their hats will be off to-morrow!

But stick to it, man! for your old selfs sake,
Though to brood on the past is human;
Hold up for the sake of the mate who was true,
And the sake of the Other Woman.
And as for the rest, you may take off your hat
And banish all signs of sorrow;
You may take their hands, but in spite of that,
Can they win your respect to-morrow? Old Man,
Can they win your respect to-morrow?

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

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Henry Lawson, Simple Poetry

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Henry Lawson, Simple Poetry

My Army, O, My Army!

Henry Lawson, Simple Poetry

A Derry On A Cove

Henry Lawson, Simple Poetry

English

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The Men Who Live It Down

I have sinned, like others, blindly, without thought and without fear,
And my best friends say it kindly, You should go away from here.
Shall I fly the paltry spirit of a narrow little town,
While the battle-drums are beating for the men who live it down?

Down the street where all men know me I can walk with level eyes,
They believe the lies about me, they can sneer, but I despise.
From my black and bitter childhood, from my dull and joyless youth,
It is I who, it is I who, I and Christ who know the truth!

I have sinned, but as a man might; like a man Ill rise again
From long nights of mental torture, from long days of care and pain.
Pass me by with eyes averted, with a shrug or with a frown,
But their heads shall bow in ashes long ere my head shall go down!

...

Henry Lawson

Sez You

When the heavy sand is yielding backward from your blistered feet,
And across the distant timber you can SEE the flowing heat;
When your head is hot and aching, and the shadeless plain is wide,
And it's fifteen miles to water in the scrub the other side,
Don't give up, don't be down-hearted, to a man's strong heart be true!
Take the air in through your nostrils, set your lips and see it through,
For it can't go on for ever, and, `I'll have my day!' says you.

When you're camping in the mulga, and the rain is falling slow,
While you nurse your rheumatism 'neath a patch of calico;
Short of tucker or tobacco, short of sugar or of tea,
And the scrubs are dark and dismal, and the plains are like a sea;
Don't give up and be down-hearted, to the soul of man be true!
Grin! if you've...

Henry Lawson

The Battling Days

So, sit you down in a straight-backed chair, with your pipe and your wife content,
And cross your knees with your wisest air, and preach of the days mis-spent;
Grown fat and moral apace, old man! you prate of the change since then,
In spite of all, Id as lief be back in those hard old days again.

They were hard old days; they were battling days; they were cruel at times, but then,
In spite of all, I would rather be back in those hard old days again.
The land was barren to sow wild oats in the days when we sowed our own,
(Twas little we thought or our friends believed that ours would ever be sown)

But the wild oats wave on their stormy path, and they speak of the hearts of men,
I would sow a crop if I had my time in those hard old days again.
We travel first, or we go salo...

Henry Lawson

To Jack

So, Ive battled it through on my own, Jack,
I have done with all dreaming and doubt.
Though stoney to-night and alone, Jack,
I am watching the Old Year out.
I have finished with brooding and fears,
Jack, And the spirit is rising in me,
For the sake of the old New Years, Jack,
And the bright New Years to be.

I have fallen in worldly disgrace, Jack,
And I know very well that you heard;
They have blackened my name in this place, Jack,
And I answered them never a word.
But why should I bluster or grieve,
Jack? So narrow and paltry they be,
I knew you would never believe, Jack,
The lies that were said against me.

That is done which shall never be undone,
And I blame not, I blame not my land,
But Im hearing the Calling of London,
And I...

Henry Lawson

Rejected

She says shes very sorry, as she sees you to the gate;
You calmly say Good-bye to her while standing off a yard,
Then you lift your hat and leave her, walking mighty stiff and straight,
But youre hit, old man, hit hard.

In your brain the words are burning of the answer that she gave,
As you turn the nearest corner and you stagger just a bit;
But you pull yourself together, for a mans strong heart is brave
When its hit, old man, hard hit.

You might try to drown the sorrow, but the drink has no effect;
You cannot stand the barmaid with her coarse and vulgar wit;
And so you seek the street again, and start for home direct,
When youre hit, old man, hard hit.

You see the face of her you lost, the pity in her smile,
Ah! she is to the barmaid as is snow to ...

Henry Lawson

Here's Luck

Old Time is tramping close to-day, you hear his bluchers fall,
A mighty change is on the way, an God protect us all;
Some dustll fly from beery coats, at least its been declared.
Im glad that wimin has the votes, but just a trifle scared.

Im just a trifle scared, For why? The wimin mean to rule;
It makes me feel like days gone by when I was caned at school.
The days of men is nearly dead, of double moons and stars,
Theyll soon put out our pipes, tis said, an close the public bars.

No more well take a glass of ale when pushed with care an strife,
Anchuckle home with that old tale we used to tell the wife.
Well laugh anjoke an sing no more with jolly beery chums,
An shout Heres luck! while waitin for the luck that never comes.

Did we prohibit sw...

Henry Lawson