Poems by Kenneth Slessor
The Old Play
... But though general admiration and sympathy were expressed, ...
Nuremberg
... On shining housetops paved with scarlet tiles! ...
Thieves' Kitchen
... . . Dance firelit in your cauldron-fumes, O thieves, ...
Metempsychosis
... . . . Tattooed with foreign ladies' tokens, a heart and dagger each, ...
To Myself
... Believe me, fool, there are worse gifts than these ...
Polarities
... Sometimes I like her with camellias, sometimes with a parsley-stalk, ...
Stars
... "They are the warm candles of beauty, hung in blessing on high, ...
Cock-Crow
... Like the night's throats ...
City Nightfall
... And those who chafe here, limed on the iron twigs, ...
Crow Country
... Crow-countries graped with dung, we go, ...
Trade Circular
... But if you should ask them for nothing, ...
Serenade
... Captains and peasants, all that are young and have luck ...
Undine
... . . . Then down to the floor his pistol dropped ...
