Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

[C. J. Dennis] (7 September 1876 - 22 June 1938 / Auburn, South Australia)

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis Poems

41. A Message: Armistice Day 1936 8/28/2012
42. A Mixed Crew 9/5/2012
43. A Morning Song 9/1/2012
44. A New Damon And Pythias 9/4/2012
45. A New Year Thought 8/31/2012
46. A New Year's Toast 8/31/2012
47. A Post-Cup Tale 8/31/2012
48. A Quest For Tophet 8/30/2012
49. A Song Of Anzac 9/3/2012
50. A Song Of Rain 9/4/2012
51. A Spring Song 3/21/2012
52. A Square Deal 9/3/2012
53. A War March 9/3/2012
54. A Warning To Ladies 9/5/2012
55. A Woman's Way 9/3/2012
56. Accent Conscious 8/28/2012
57. Accorjins 8/28/2012
58. Adulations Artful Aid 8/29/2012
59. Advance Australia 8/28/2012
60. Aesthete In The Avenue 8/30/2012
61. Affable Alf 9/5/2012
62. African Interlude 8/28/2012
63. Aha! Beware 9/5/2012
64. Aldermen And Antirrhinum 8/28/2012
65. All Fools' Day 8/31/2012
66. An Appeal To End Appeals 9/6/2012
67. An Appeal To Women 9/5/2012
68. An Apt Pupil 8/29/2012
69. An Echo From Africa 8/29/2012
70. An Epitaph 8/31/2012
71. An Error In Creation 9/5/2012
72. An Old Man Muses 8/30/2012
73. An Old Master 3/21/2012
74. Another Economic Riddle 8/31/2012
75. Another Fusion 9/5/2012
76. Antarctic Pioneers 8/31/2012
77. Anticlimax 8/28/2012
78. Anzac 8/31/2012
79. Anzac Eve 9/3/2012
80. Anzac Square: What The Digger Said 8/31/2012
Best Poem of Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

Hist!

Hist! . . . . . . Hark!
The night is very dark,
And we've to go a mile or so
Across the Possum Park.

Step . . . . . . light,
Keeping to the right;
If we delay, and lose our way,
We'll be out half the night.
The clouds are low and gloomy. Oh!
It's just begun to mist!
We haven't any overcoats
And - Hist! . . . . . . Hist!

(Mo . . . . . . poke!)
Who was that that spoke?
This is not a fitting spot
To make a silly joke.

Dear . . . . . . me!
A mopoke in a tree!
It jarred me so, I didn't know
Whatever it could be.
But come along;...

Read the full of Hist!

Our Cow

Down by the slipralls stands our cow
Chewing, chewing, chewing,
She does not care what folks out there
In the great, big world are doing.
She sees the small cloud-shadows pass
And green grass shining under.
If she does think, what does she think
About it all, I wonder?

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