|
|
Edward Dyson
1865-1931
Poetry Listing
See Edward Dyson's Story and Essay Listing Here.
Please Note: This list is not comprehensive, but is an ongoing work of the love of poetry.
Within this area you will be able to read, and give your thoughts on the poetry listed.
Please, if you find an error, let me know.
Read More About Edward Dyson below poetry list
| | Poem Title | First Lines | Period | # Lines | # Reads | | 1: | A Friendly Game Of Football | We were challenged by The Dingoes , they're the pride of Squatter's Gap, | | 56 | 970 | | 2: | A New Girl Up At White’s | There's a fresh track down the paddock | | 61 | 969 | | 3: | A Poor Joke | No, you can’t count me in, boys; I’m off it, | | 112 | 941 | | 4: | A Thermometrical Ballade | There’s a wind up that licks like a flame, | | 28 | 1085 | | 5: | Ah Ling, The Leper | Up a dark and fetid alley, where the offal and the slime | | 32 | 893 | | 6: | An Inequitable Impost | The first one with conviction penned: | | 10 | 907 | | 7: | As The Troops Went Through | I heard this day, as I may no more, | | 50 | 886 | | 8: | Australia | Australia, my native land, | | 49 | 884 | | 9: | Bashful Gleeson | From her home beyond the river in the parting of the hills, | | 56 | 897 | | 10: | Battered Bob | He was working on a station in the Western when I knew him, | | 80 | 951 | | 11: | Battle Passes | A quaint old gabled cottage sleeps between the raving hills. | | 51 | 906 | | 12: | BillJim | Down to it is Plugger Bill, | | 56 | 889 | | 13: | Billy Khaki | Marching somewhat out of order when the band is cock-a-hoop, | | 48 | 867 | | 14: | Breaking It Gently | All was up with Richard Tanner | | 40 | 877 | | 15: | Bricks | Dear Ned, I now take up my pen to write you these few lines, | | 65 | 909 | | 16: | Bullets | As bullets come to us they're thin, | | 85 | 989 | | 17: | Cleaning Up | When the horse has been unharnessed and we've flushed the old machine, | | 36 | 970 | | 18: | Cricket Is A Serious Thing | In politics there’s room for jest; | | 24 | 853 | | 19: | German Joe | Skirting the swamp and the tangled scrub, | | 63 | 917 | | 20: | Hello, Soldier! | Back again 'n' nothin' missin' barrin' arf a hand, | | 68 | 937 | | 21: | Highly Desireable | The boarder in the bar-room rose, | | 18 | 1001 | | 22: | How Herman Won The Cross | Once in a blue eternity they gave us dabs of rum | | 48 | 868 | | 23: | In Hospital | It is thirty moons since I slung me hook | | 85 | 846 | | 24: | In Town | Out of work and out of money,out of friends that means, you bet, | | 36 | 1058 | | 25: | In ‘The Benevolent’ | I’m off on the wallaby!’ cries Old Ben, | | 45 | 836 | | 26: | Jam - A Hymn Of Hate | What is meant by active service | | 40 | 907 | | 27: | Joey’s Job | In days before the trouble Jo was rated as a slob. | | 54 | 872 | | 28: | Jonah’s Luck | Out of luck, mate? Have a liquor. Hang it, where’s the use complaining? | | 52 | 915 | | 29: | Marshal Neigh, V.C. | He came from tumbled country past the humps of Buffalo | | 64 | 2287 | | 30: | Men Of Australia | Men of all the lands Australian from the Gulf to Derwent River, | | 40 | 2393 | | 31: | Mickey Mollynoo | A mile-long panto dragon ploddin' 'opeless all the day, | | 65 | 2294 | | 32: | Mud | This war's a waste of slurry, and its atmosphere is mud, | | 48 | 2647 | | 33: | My Typewriter | I have a trim typewriter now, | | 24 | 2820 | | 34: | Night Shift | Hello! that’s the whistle, be moving. | | 48 | 2615 | | 35: | Of The True Endeavour | Happy he in whom the honest love of fair endeavour lingers, | | 28 | 2246 | | 36: | Out Of Khaki | I slung me khaki suit to-day | | 48 | 2362 | | 37: | Peace, Blessed Peace | Here in the flamin' thick of thick of things, | | 64 | 2794 | | 38: | Peter Simson's Farm | Simson settled in the timber when his arm was strong and true, | | 64 | 2436 | | 39: | Quits | Ben Unger’s wife was dark and small, | | 24 | 1581 | | 40: | Repaired | Hauled I was from out the tip | | 54 | 2446 | | 41: | Simple Sister Goes To Sydney | When Flo resolved to go to town from brothers three a yell went up, | | 20 | 2202 | | 42: | Since Nellie Came To Live Along The Creek | My hut is built of stringy-bark, the window’s calico, | | 70 | 1688 | | 43: | Sister Ann | I'm lyin' in a narrow bed, | | 70 | 1570 | | 44: | Stop-And-See | I’m stewing in a brick-built town; | | 72 | 884 | | 45: | Struck It At Last | He was almost blind, and wasted | | 56 | 2370 | | 46: | The Auction | Who'll bid? Who'll bid?" the question rang | | 18 | 2357 | | 47: | The Church Bells | The great bell booms across the town, | | 28 | 1367 | | 48: | The Common Men | The great men framed the fierce decrees | | 50 | 1374 | | 49: | The Crusaders | What price yer humble, Dicko Smith, in gaudy putties girt, | | 44 | 1292 | | 50: | The Deserted Homestead | Past a dull, grey plain where a world-old grief seems to brood o’er the silent land, | | 60 | 1301 | | 51: | The Drovers In Reply | We are wondering why those fellows who are writing cheerful ditties | | 40 | 1209 | | 52: | The Emu Of Whroo | We've a tale to tell you of a spavined emit | | 110 | 1241 | | 53: | The Fact Of The Matter | I'm wonderin' why those fellers who go buildin' chipper ditties, | | 40 | 1145 | | 54: | The Fossicker | A straight old fossicker was Lanky Mann, | | 36 | 1216 | | 55: | The Freak | Just beyond All Alone, going back, | | 90 | 1236 | | 56: | The Germ | I took to khaki at a word, | | 54 | 1229 | | 57: | The Girl I Left Behind | I said: “I leave my bit of land, | | 42 | 1245 | | 58: | The Hapless Army | The Hapless Army from the dark | | 32 | 1268 | | 59: | The Happy Flatite | We were living in a flat; it was number eighty-three. | | 28 | 1246 | | 60: | The Happy Gardeners | We were storemen, clerks and packers on an ammunition dump | | 52 | 1213 | | 61: | The Immortal Strain | We told old stories one by one, | | 48 | 1230 | | 62: | The Letters Of The Dead | A letter came from Dick to-day; | | 72 | 1165 | | 63: | The Living Picture | He rode along one splendid noon, | | 64 | 2489 | | 64: | The Moralist | Three other soldier blokes 'n' me packed 'ome from foreign lands; | | 49 | 1241 | | 65: | The Old Camp-Oven | We don't keep a grand piano in our hut beside the creek, | | 48 | 1120 | | 66: | The Old Whim Horse | He's an old grey horse, with his head bowed sadly, | | 80 | 861 | | 67: | The One At Home | Don told me that he loved me dear | | 32 | 1267 | | 68: | The Prospectors | When the white sun scorches the fair, green land in the rage of his fierce desires, | | 54 | 1162 | | 69: | The Rescue | There's a sudden, fierce clang of the knocker, then the sound of a voice in the shaft, | | 56 | 832 | | 70: | The Shanty | There are tracks through the scrub, there’s a track down the hill, | | 44 | 1162 | | 71: | The Single-Handed Team | We’re more than partners, Ned 'n' me, | | 60 | 1173 | | 72: | The Splitter | In the morn when the keen blade bites the tree, | | 40 | 1229 | | 73: | The Tale Of Steven | Tis the tale of Simon Steven, braceman at the Odd-and-Even, | | 44 | 1128 | | 74: | The Tin-Pot Mill | Quite a proud and happy man is Finn the Packer | | 56 | 1130 | | 75: | The Toucher | He was a jobbing hand from the printers’ flat. | | 85 | 2313 | | 76: | The Trucker | If you want a game to tame you and to take your measure in, | | 52 | 1001 | | 77: | The Unborn | I see grim War, a bestial thing, | | 30 | 1059 | | 78: | The Weeds | Brown passed away, and Mrs Brown, | | 18 | 1101 | | 79: | The Worked-Out Mine | On summer nights when moonbeams flow | | 48 | 1004 | | 80: | The Young Lieutenant | The young lieutenant's face was grey. | | 48 | 1066 | | 81: | To A Politician | There was a moment when of you | | 28 | 1011 | | 82: | To The Men Of The Mines | We specked as boys o'er worked-out ground | | 36 | 840 | | 83: | To The Theoretical Selector | Would you be the King, the strong man, first in council and in toil, | | 37 | 990 | | 84: | Unredeemed | I saw the Christ down from His cross, | | 89 | 1003 | | 85: | Waiting For Water | Twas old Flynn, the identity, told us | | 117 | 1084 | | 86: | Weepin’ Willie | Whey our trooper hit wide water every heart was yearin' back | | 42 | 985 | | 87: | When Beauty Is Bald | I’ve sung of Honor’s golden hair | | 27 | 904 | | 88: | When Brother Peetree Prayed | Twas a sleepy little chapel by a wattled hill erected, | | 36 | 865 | | 89: | When The Bell Blew Up | That's the boiler at The Bell, mates! Tumble out, Ned, neck and crop, | | 48 | 817 | | 90: | When Tommy Came Marching Home | Devine came back the other day. | | 45 | 827 | | 91: | Wherefore Art Thou Romeo? | I see thee still in doublet wide, | | 28 | 832 | | 92: | Whose Wife | Harry! what, that yourself, back to old Vic., man, | | 28 | 834 | | 93: | Why Spring Fell Flat | The Spring is gone. I have not seen | | 18 | 866 | | 94: | William And Bill | Our Mr. Jiggs was certainly an estimable youth, | | 40 | 846 |
About:
Edward George Dyson (1865-1931) was an Australian poet, journalist and short story writer.
He was born at Morrisons near Ballarat in March 1865. His father, George Dyson, arrived in Australia in 1852 and after working on various diggings became a mining engineer, his mother came from a life of refinement in England. The family led a roving life during Dyson's childhood, moving successively to Alfredton, Bendigo, Ballarat and Alfredton again. Unconsciously the boy was storing for future use the life of the miners, farmers and bushmen, among whom he lived. At 12 he began to work as an assistant to a travelling draper, after that was a whimboy in a mine, and for two or three years an assistant in a factory at Melbourne. This was followed by work in a newspaper office. At 19 he began writing verse, and a few years later embarked on a life of free-lance journalism which lasted until his death. His first notable work was "The Golden Shanty", which appeared in the Bulletin, and many other short stories followed. In 1896 he published a volume of poems, Rhymes from the Mines, and in 1898 the first collection of his short stories, Below and On Top. In 1901 his first long story The Gold-stealers was published in London, which was followed by In the Roaring Fifties in 1906. In the same year appeared Fact'ry 'Ands, a series of more or less connected sketches dealing with factory life in Melbourne in a vein of humour. Various other stories and collections of stories were published in the Bookstall Series and will be found listed in Miller's Australian Literature. Another volume of verse Hello, Soldier! appeared in 1919. All through the years Dyson did an enormous amount of work until he broke down under the strain and died after a long illness on 22 August 1931. He married Miss Jackson who survived him with one daughter.
Edward Dyson was the brother of Will Dyson and Ambrose Dyson.
This page viewed 21738 times.
|
|
