Come down, thou friendly Night!
Drive out this traitor Light,
Who will reveal my silent way!
And Darkness give me cover,
That I may find my Lover,
After the fevered day!

What summons do I hear?
The morning peal, departure's knell;
My eyes let fall a friendly tear,
And bid this place farewell.

Attending servants come,
The carriage wheels like thunders roar,
To bear the pensive seniors home,
Here to be seen no more.

Pass one more transient night,
The morning sweeps the College clean;
The graduate takes his last long flight,
No more in College seen.

The bee, in which courts the flower,
Must with some pain itself employ,
And then fly, at the day's last hour,
Home to its hive with joy.

A plumber may be a poet, but a poet is not likely
to be a plumber.—From an advertisement.

These two great callings are, you say,
Of antithetic types. . . .
Quite true.
The poet pipes his lay,
But the plumber lays his pipes.

A web I hear thou hast begun,
And know'st not when it may be done—
So death uncertain see ye fear—
For ever distant, ever near.

See'st thou the shuttle quickly pass—
Think mortal life is as the grass,—
An empty cloud—a morning dream—
A bubble rising on the stream.

The knife still ready to cut off
Excrescent knots that mar the stuff,
To stern affliction's rod compare—
'Tis for thy good, so learn to bear.

Too full a quill oft checks the speed
Of shuttle flying by the reed—
So riches oft keep back the soul,

Even in the time of gods
they needed wine
to deceive others

Friend , stay your steps awhile before
You pass within the open door;
Bethink you in what manner you
Shall greet the host; consider, too,
How to a feast of all his best
The author here invites his guest,
To taste his meat and drink his wine,
On every dish to freely dine.
And, mind you, when you come to sit
Before the board whereon his wit
And wisdom are all spread to make
A meal for your mind's stomach's sake,
To bear yourself with dignity
And treat your host with courtesy.

If any dish before you placed
By any chance offend your taste,

The Statue of Strassburg is flooded with light,
The people of Strassburg are joy-mad to-night;
The belfries, vibrating like ships on the sea,
Peal back through the Ages that Strassburg is free!

Three hundred brave thousands rejoicing to tears,
Their firm faith unshaken in forty dark years!
Look back through five hundred, like haze on the sea,
And Strassburg was powerful and Strassburg was free!

The fame of her marshals was known to the world;
The armies of Greed from her grey walls she hurled,
She sang to the Nations, for your sake and mine,

White clouds that change and pass,
And stars that shine awhile,
Dew water on the grass,
A fox upon a stile.

A river broad and deep,
A slow boat on the waves,
My sad thoughts on the sleep
That hollows out the graves.

If warre, or want shall make me grow so poore,
As for to beg my bread from doore to doore;
Lord! let me never act that beggars part,
Who hath thee in his mouth, not in his heart.
He who asks almes in that so sacred Name,
Without due reverence, playes the cheaters game.

The daughters of the nation,
With purpose great and grand,
To dreary isolation
Went out upon the land;
A national oblation,
This patriotic band.

The daughters of the nation
Went out at love's behest,
With firm determination
To settle in the west;
Through bush fire's desolation,
With babies at the breast.

Undaunted by the wild men,
Beyond protection's ken,
To where nor road nor line ran,
Glad went they with their men
To take the seal of sun-tan,
Beside their valiant men.

The women of Port Jackson