Poems begining by W

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With the Cattle

© Andrew Barton Paterson

The drought is down on field and flock,
The river-bed is dry;
And we must shift the starving stock
Before the cattle die.

Who is Kator Anyhow?

© Andrew Barton Paterson

Not at all! his claim to glory
Rests on quite another story.
All obscure he might have tarried,
But he managed to get married --
And (to cut the matter shorter)
Married William Forster's daughter.

Weary Will

© Andrew Barton Paterson

The strongest creature for his size
But least equipped for combat
That dwells beneath Australian skies
Is Weary Will the Wombat.

When Dacey rode the Mule

© Andrew Barton Paterson

The band struck up with Killaloe,
And Rule Britannia, Rule,
And Young Man from the Country, too,
When Dacey rode the mule.

The Bee-birds over the homestead flew
And told each other the long day through
"The cold has come, we must take the track."
"Now, I'll make you a bet," said the Laughing Jack,
"Of a hundred mice, that you dare not go
With the little Bee-birds, by Boastful Crow."

White Cockatoos

© Andrew Barton Paterson

Now the autumn maize is growing,
Now the corn-cob fills,
Where the Little River flowing
Winds among the hills.

With French to Kimberley

© Andrew Barton Paterson

The Boers were down on Kimberley with siege and Maxim gun;
The Boers were down on Kimberley, their numbers ten to one!
Faint were the hopes the British had to make the struggle good --
Defenceless in an open plain the Diamond City stood.

"We're All Australians Now"

© Andrew Barton Paterson

The man who used to "hump his drum",
On far-out Queensland runs
Is fighting side by side with some
Tasmanian farmer's sons.

Wisdom of Hafiz: the Philosopher Takes to Racing

© Andrew Barton Paterson

My son, if you go to the races to battle with Ikey and Mo,
Remember, it's seldom the pigeon can pick out the eye of the crow;
Remember, they live by the business; remember, my son, and go slow.
If ever an owner should tell you, "Back mine" -- don't you be such a flat.
He knows his own cunning no doubt -- does he know what the others are at?
Find out what he's frightened of most, and invest a few dollars on that.

Waltzing Matilda

© Andrew Barton Paterson

Oh! there once was a swagman camped in the Billabong,
Under the shade of a Coolabah tree;
And he sang as he looked at his old billy boiling,
"Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me."

Walking The Marshland

© Stephen Dunn

It was no place for the faithless,
so I felt a little odd
walking the marshland with my daughters,

With No Experience In Such Matters

© Stephen Dunn

To hold a damaged sparrow
under water until you feel it die
is to know a small something
about the mind; how, for example,
it blames the cat for the original crime,
how it wants praise for its better side.

Welcome

© Stephen Dunn

if you believe nothing is always what's left
after a while, as I did,
If you believe you have this collection
of ungiven gifts, as I do (right here

Water Lilies

If you have forgotten water lilies floating
On a dark lake among mountains in the afternoon shade,
If you have forgotten their wet, sleepy fragrance,
Then you can return and not be afraid.

What Do I Care?

What do I care, in the dreams and the languor of spring,
That my songs do not show me at all?
For they are a fragrance, and I am a flint and a fire,
I am an answer, they are only a call.

Winter Stores

WE take from life one little share,
And say that this shall be
A space, redeemed from toil and care,
From tears and sadness free.

Well Water

What a girl called "the dailiness of life"
(Adding an errand to your errand. Saying,
"Since you're up . . ." Making you a means to
A means to a means to) is well water

Wind in the Beechwood

O luminous and lovely! Let your flowers,
Your ageless-squadroned wings, your surge and gleam,
Drown me in quivering brightness: let me fade
In the warm, rustling music of the hours
That guard your ancient wisdom, till my dream
Moves with the chant and whisper of the glade.