Author: Andrew Barton Paterson

Do they know? At the turn to the straight Where the favourites fail, And every last atom of weight Is […]

Out in the grey cheerless chill of the morning light, Out on the track where the night shades still lurk, […]

By the far Samoan shore, Where the league-long rollers pour All the wash of the Pacific on the coral-guarded bay, […]

The sheep were shorn and the wool went down At the time of our local racing; And I’d earned a […]

Not for the love of women toil we, we of the craft, Not for the people’s praise; Only because our […]

In distant New Zealand, whose tresses of gold The billows are ceaselessly combing, Away in a village all tranquil and […]

The Scorcher and the Howling Swell were riding through the land; They wept like anything to see the hills on […]

The actor struts his little hour, Between the limelight and the band; The public feel the actor’s power, Yet nothing […]

Roses ruddy and roses white, What are the joys that my heart discloses? Sitting alone in the fading light Memories […]

Oh, it’s dreadful to think in a country like this With its chances for work – and enjoyment That a […]