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Henry Lawson (17 June 1867 – 2 September 1922 / Grenfell, New South Wales)
Poems of Henry Lawson
| 461. | To Roumania | 3/27/2010 |
| 462. | To Show What a Man Can Do | 3/27/2010 |
| 463. | To The Irish Delegates | 3/27/2010 |
| 464. | To Tom Bracken | 3/27/2010 |
| 465. | To Victor Daley | 3/27/2010 |
| 466. | To-Morrow | 3/27/2010 |
| 467. | Trooper Campbell | 12/31/2002 |
| 468. | Trouble on the Selection | 3/27/2010 |
| 469. | Uncle Harry | 1/1/2004 |
| 470. | Untitled | 3/29/2010 |
| 471. | Unwritten Books | 3/27/2010 |
| 472. | Up The Country | 12/31/2002 |
| 473. | Victor | 3/27/2010 |
| 474. | Victory | 1/1/2004 |
| 475. | Waratah and Wattle | 1/1/2004 |
| 476. | Watching The Crows | 3/27/2010 |
| 477. | What Have We All Forgotten? | 3/27/2010 |
| 478. | When Hopes Ran High | 3/27/2010 |
| 479. | When I Was King | 3/27/2010 |
| 480. | When The `Army' Prays For Watty | 12/31/2002 |
Eureka
Roll up, Eureka's heroes, on that grand Old Rush afar,
For Lalor's gone to join you in the big camp where you are;
Roll up and give him welcome such as only diggers can,
For well he battled for the rights of miner and of Man.
In that bright golden country that lies beyond our sight,
The record of his honest life shall be his Miner's Right;
But many a bearded mouth shall twitch, and many a tear be shed,
And many a grey old digger sigh to hear that Lalor's dead.
Yet wipe your eyes, old fos
