The Death of Ned Kelly
Ned Kelly fought the rich men in country and in town,
Ned Kelly fought the troopers until they ran him down;
He thought that he had fooled them, for he was hard to find,
But he rode into Glenrowan with the troopers close behind.
‘Come out of that, Ned Kelly,’ the head zarucker calls,
‘Come out and leave your shelter, or we’ll shoot it full of holes.’
‘If you take me,’ says Kelly, ‘that’s not the speech to use;
I’ve lived to spite your order, I’ll die the way I choose!’
‘Come out of that, Ned Kelly, you done a lawless thing;
You robbed and fought the squatters, Ned Kelly, you must swing.’
‘If those who rob,’ says Kelly, ‘are all condemned to die,
You had better hang the squatters; they’ve stolen more than I.’
‘You’d best come out, Ned Kelly, you done the government wrong,
For you held up the coaches that bring the gold along.’
‘Go tell your boss,’ says Kelly, ‘who lets the rich go free,
That your bloody rich man’s government will never govern me.’
Although his guns were empty he took them by surprise;
He wore an iron breastplate and armour on his thigh.
Although his guns were empty he made them turn and flee,
But one came in behind him and shot him in the knee.
And so they took Ned Kelly and hanged him in the jail,
For he fought singlehanded although in iron mail.
And no man singlehanded can hope to break the bars;
It’s a thousand like Ned Kelly who’ll hoist the Flag of Stars.
John Manifold
Sunning
Old Dog lay in the summer sun
Much too lazy to rise and run.
He flapped an ear
At a buzzing fly.
He winked a half opened
Sleepy eye.
He scratched himself
On an itching spot,
As he dozed on the porch
Where the sun was hot.
He whimpered a bit
From force of habit
While he lazily dreamed
Of chasing a rabbit.
But Old Dog happily lay in the sun
Much too lazy to rise and run.
From Jamaica Inn
He was a great husk of a man, nearly seven feet high, with a creased black brow and a skin the colour of a gypsy. His thick dark hair fell over his eyes in a fringe and hung about his ears. He looked as if he had the strength of a horse, with immense powerful shoulders, long arms that reached almost to his knees, and large fists like hams. His frame was so big that in a sense his head was dwarfed, and sunk between his shoulders, giving that half-stooping impression of a giant gorilla, with his black eyebrows and his mat of hair... his nose was hooked, curving to a mouth that might have been perfect once but was now sunken and fallen, and there was still something find about his great dark eyes, in spite of the lines and pouches and red blood-flecks.
The best things left to him were his teeth, which were all good still, and very white, so that when he smiled they showed up clearly against the tan of his face, giving him the lean and hungry appearance of a wolf.