Famous Andrew Poems by Famous Poets

These are examples of famous Andrew poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous andrew poems. These examples illustrate what a famous andrew poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).

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Black Harrys Team

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 No soft-skinned Durham steers are they, 
No Devons plump and red, 
But brindled, black and iron-grey 
That mark the mountain-bred; 
For mountain-bred and mountain-broke, 
With sullen eyes agleam, 
No stranger's hand could put a yoke 
On old Black Harry's team. 


Pull out, pull out, at break of morn 
The creeks are running white, 
And Tiger, Spot and Snailey-horn 
Must...Read more of this...

A Motor Courtship

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 Into her presence he gaily pranced, 
A very fat spark, and a bit advanced. 
With a Samson tread on the earth he trod, 
He was stayed and gaitered, and fifty odd. 

And she was a tulip just unfurled, 
The sweetest thing in the motor world. 

Her body was one of which poets dreamed; 
Eighteen -- twenty, or so she...Read more of this...

The Ballad of the Carpet Bag

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 Ho! Darkies, don't you hear dose voters cryin' 
Pack dat carpet bag! 
You must get to de Poll, you must get there flyin'; 
Pack dat carpet bag! 
You must travel by de road, you must travel by de train, 
And the things what you've done you will have to explain, 
And the things what you've promised, you must promise...Read more of this...

An Horatian Ode Upon Cromwells Return from Ireland

by Andrew Marvell
 The forward youth that would appear 
Must now forsake his Muses dear, 
Nor in the shadows sing 
His numbers languishing. 
'Tis time to leave the books in dust, 
And oil th' unused armour's rust, 
Removing from the wall 
The corslet of the hall. 
So restless Cromwell could not cease 
In the inglorious arts of peace, 
But through advent'rous war...Read more of this...

Conroys Gap

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 This was the way of it, don't you know -- 
Ryan was "wanted" for stealing sheep, 
And never a trooper, high or low, 
Could find him -- catch a weasel asleep! 
Till Trooper Scott, from the Stockman's Ford -- 
A bushman, too, as I've heard them tell -- 
Chanced to find him drunk as a lord 
Round at the...Read more of this...

Mulligans Mare

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 Oh, Mulligan's bar was the deuce of a place 
To drink, and to fight, and to gamble and race; 
The height of choice spirits from near and from far 
Were all concentrated on Mulligan's bar. 

There was "Jerry the Swell", and the jockey-boy Ned, 
"Dog-bite-me" -- so called from the shape of his head -- 
And a man whom...Read more of this...

To His Noble Friend Mr. Richard Lovelace Upon His Poems

by Andrew Marvell
 Sir, 
Our times are much degenerate from those 
Which your sweet muse with your fair fortune chose, 
And as complexions alter with the climes, 
Our wits have drawn the infection of our times. 
That candid age no other way could tell 
To be ingenious, but by speaking well. 
Who best could praise had then the greatest praise, 
'Twas more...Read more of this...

Brumbys Run

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 It lies beyond the Western Pines 
Towards the sinking sun, 
And not a survey mark defines 
The bounds of "Brumby's Run". 

On odds and ends of mountain land, 
On tracks of range and rock 
Where no one else can make a stand, 
Old Brumby rears his stock. 

A wild, unhandled lot they are 
Of every shape and breed. 
They...Read more of this...

Santa Claus in the Bush

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 It chanced out back at the Christmas time, 
When the wheat was ripe and tall, 
A stranger rode to the farmer's gate -- 
A sturdy man and a small. 
"Rin doon, rin doon, my little son Jack, 
And bid the stranger stay; 
And we'll hae a crack for Auld Lang Syne, 
For the morn is Christmas Day." 

"Nay noo,...Read more of this...

The Plains

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 A land, as far as the eye can see, where the waving grasses grow 
Or the plains are blackened and burnt and bare, where the false mirages go 
Like shifting symbols of hope deferred - land where you never know. 

Land of the plenty or land of want, where the grey Companions dance, 
Feast or famine, or hope or...Read more of this...

Ave Ceasar

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 Long ago the Gladiators, 
When the call to combat came, 
Marching past the massed spectators, 
Hailed the Emp'ror with acclaim! 
Voices ringing with the fury 
Of the strife so soon to be, 
Cried, "O Caesar, morituri 
salutamus te!" 

Nowadays the massed spectators 
See the unaccustomed sight -- 
Legislative gladiators 
Marching to their last great fight; 
Young and old, obscure...Read more of this...

Shouting for a Camel

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 It was over at Coolgardie that a mining speculator, 
Who was going down the township just to make a bit o' chink, 
Went off to hire a camel from a camel propagator, 
And the Afghan said he'd lend it if he'd stand the beast a drink. 
Yes, the only price he asked him was to stand the beast a...Read more of this...

The Two Devines

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 It was shearing time at the Myall Lake, 
And then rose the sound through the livelong day 
Of the constant clash that the shear-blades make 
When the fastest shearers are making play; 
But there wasn't a man in the shearers' lines 
That could shear a sheep with the two Devines. 
They had rung the sheds of the east and...Read more of this...

Blakes Victory

by Andrew Marvell
 On the Victory Obtained by Blake over the Spaniards in the Bay of Santa Cruz, in the Island of Tenerife, 1657

Now does Spain's fleet her spacious wings unfold, 
Leaves the New World and hastens for the old: 
But though the wind was fair, they slowly swum 
Freighted with acted guilt, and guilt to come: 
For this rich load, of...Read more of this...

Old Pardon the Son of Reprieve

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 You never heard tell of the story? 
Well, now, I can hardly believe! 
Never heard of the honour and glory 
Of Pardon, the son of Reprieve? 
But maybe you're only a Johnnie 
And don't know a horse from a hoe? 
Well, well, don't get angry, my sonny, 
But, really, a young un should know. 
They bred him out back...Read more of this...

To His Coy Mistress

by Andrew Marvell
  Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humber would complain.  I would
Love you ten years before the Flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of...Read more of this...

Ros

by Andrew Marvell
 Cernis ut Eio descendat Gemmula Roris,
Inque Rosas roseo transfluat orta sinu.
Sollicita Flores stant ambitione supini,
Et certant foliis pellicuisse suis.
Illa tamen patriae lustrans fastigia Sphaerae,
Negligit hospitii limina picta novi.
Inque sui nitido conclusa voluminis orbe,
Exprimit aetherei qua licet Orbis aquas.
En ut odoratum spernat generosior Ostrum,
Vixque premat casto mollia strata pede.
Suspicit at longis distantem obtutibus Axem,
Inde & languenti lumine pendet amans,
Tristis, &...Read more of this...

Waltzing Matilda

by 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." 

Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda, my darling,
 Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
Waltzing Matilda and leading a water-bag—
 Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?

Down came a jumbuck...Read more of this...

Riders in the Stand

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 There's some that ride the Robbo style, and bump at every stride; 
While others sit a long way back, to get a longer ride. 
There's some that ride as sailors do, with legs, and arms, and teeth; 
And some that ride the horse's neck, and some ride underneath. 
But all the finest horsemen out -- the men to Beat...Read more of this...

A Garden Written after the Civil Wars

by Andrew Marvell
 SEE how the flowers, as at parade, 
Under their colours stand display'd: 
Each regiment in order grows, 
That of the tulip, pink, and rose. 
But when the vigilant patrol 
Of stars walks round about the pole, 
Their leaves, that to the stalks are curl'd, 
Seem to their staves the ensigns furl'd. 
Then in some flower's beloved hut 
Each bee,...Read more of this...

Upon An Eunuch; A Poet. Fragment

by Andrew Marvell
 Nec sterilem te crede; Licet, mulieribus exul,
Falcem virginiae nequeas immitere messi,
Et nostro peccare modo. Tibi Fama perenne
Praegnabit; rapiesque novem de monse Sorores;
Et pariet modulos Echo repetita Nepotes....Read more of this...

Gilhooleys Estate

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 Oh, Mr Gilhooley he turned up his toes, 
As most of you know, soon or late; 
And Jones was a lawyer, as everyone knows, 
So they took him to Gilhooley's Estate. 
Gilhooley in life had been living so free 
'Twas thought his possessions were great, 
So Jones, with a smile, says, "There's many a fee 
For me in Gilhooley's...Read more of this...

Song of the Future

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 'Tis strange that in a land so strong 
So strong and bold in mighty youth, 
We have no poet's voice of truth 
To sing for us a wondrous song. 
Our chiefest singer yet has sung 
In wild, sweet notes a passing strain, 
All carelessly and sadly flung 
To that dull world he thought so vain. 

"I care for nothing,...Read more of this...

An Emu Hunt

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 West of Dubbo the west begins 
The land of leisure and hope and trust, 
Where the black man stalks with his dogs and gins 
And Nature visits the settlers' sins 
With the Bogan shower, that is mostly dust. 
When the roley-poley's roots dry out 
With the fierce hot winds and the want of rain, 
They come uprooted and bound...Read more of this...

Policeman G

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 To Policeman G. the Inspector said: 
"When you pass the 'shops' you must turn your head; 
If you took a wager, that would be a sin; 
So you'll earn no stripes if you run them in." 
Mush-a-ring-tiy-ah, 
Fol-de-diddle-doh! 
To the House Committee, the Inspector said: 
"'Tis a terrible thing how the gamblers spread, 
For they bet on the steeple,...Read more of this...

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