Australia is fair, like a true daughter of England

A wanderer stands at the statue of Robert Burns A digger’s tent is lonely in the night But a woman is other to the men that laid Our countries roots in song and verse She was melancholy, as the lonely curlew cried Men are sailors battling the weather and dying Women’s hearts break with all…

Gilbert’s grave

Once I stood by Gilbert’s grave On a night of frost and cold Listening to the breezes whisper A tale from days of old And in my dreams When the night was dark The bushranger by the stream Awoke to a warning yell His horse was at his side The moment the mounted troopers fell Three…