Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

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

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis Poems

81. The Sentimental Bloke 3/21/2012
82. The Seer 9/3/2012
83. The Satin Bower-Bird 8/31/2012
84. The Sailor 9/1/2012
85. The Rose And The Bee 8/28/2012
86. The Roads' End 8/28/2012
87. The Rhymes Of Sym 9/3/2012
88. The Reaper In The Bush 9/3/2012
89. The Push 9/3/2012
90. The Postman 9/1/2012
91. The Porter 9/1/2012
92. The Play 3/21/2012
93. The Pieman 9/1/2012
94. The Philistine 9/4/2012
95. The Pallid Cuckoo 8/31/2012
96. The Over-Fed Fuse 9/5/2012
97. The Old White Horse 8/30/2012
98. The Old Shanty 8/31/2012
99. The Old Gunn's Gully Line 8/30/2012
100. The Old Brass Rail 8/30/2012
101. The Oil From Bill Shane 8/30/2012
102. The Mystic 9/5/2012
103. The Music Of Your Voice 1/1/2004
104. The Mountain Laboured 9/4/2012
105. The Mooch O' Life 3/21/2012
106. The Modern Cherub 9/1/2012
107. The Mirror 8/30/2012
108. The Minglers 9/4/2012
109. The Milk Billy 8/29/2012
110. The Milch Kangaroo 8/29/2012
111. The Merry Sportsmen 8/29/2012
112. The Mercenary View 8/31/2012
113. The Mendicants 9/5/2012
114. The Mellowing Of Joe 9/4/2012
115. The Martyred Democrat 9/5/2012
116. The Martyr Of Bovinia 9/4/2012
117. The March 9/5/2012
118. The Magpie Lark 8/30/2012
119. The Madman 8/30/2012
120. The Lyre-Tailed Menura 8/30/2012
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!

You And I

They say the eagle is a bird
That sees some splendid sights
When he soars high into the sky
Upon his dizzy flights:
He sees the ground for miles around
Our house, and Billy Johnson's;
But we can not be Eagles, for
That would, of course, be nonsense.

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