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Best Famous Toady Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Toady poems. This is a select list of the best famous Toady poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Toady poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of toady poems.

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Written by Andrew Barton Paterson | Create an image from this poem

Its Grand

 It's grand to be a squatter 
And sit upon a post, 
And watch your little ewes and lambs 
A-giving up the ghost. 

It's grand to be a "cockie" 
With wife and kids to keep, 
And find an all-wise Providence 
Has mustered all your sheep. 

It's grand to be a Western man, 
With shovel in your hand, 
To dig your little homestead out 
From underneath the sand. 

It's grand to be a shearer 
Along the Darling-side, 
And pluck the wool from stinking sheep 
That some days since have died. 

It's grand to be a rabbit 
And breed till all is blue, 
And then to die in heaps because 
There's nothing left to chew. 

It's grand to be a Minister 
And travel like a swell, 
And tell the Central District folk 
To go to -- Inverell. 

It's grand to be a socialist 
And lead the bold array 
That marches to prosperity 
At seven bob a day. 
It's grand to be unemployed 
And lie in the Domain, 
And wake up every second day -- 
And go to sleep again. 

It's grand to borrow English tin 
To pay for wharves and docks 
And then to find it isn't in 
The little money-box. 

It's grand to be a democrat 
And toady to the mob, 
For fear that if you told the truth 
They'd hunt you from your job. 

It's grand to be a lot of things 
In this fair Southern land, 
But if the Lord would send us rain, 
That would, indeed, be grand!


Written by Thomas Hardy | Create an image from this poem

The Bridge of Lodi

 I 

When of tender mind and body 
I was moved by minstrelsy, 
And that strain "The Bridge of Lodi" 
Brought a strange delight to me. 

II 

In the battle-breathing jingle 
Of its forward-footing tune 
I could see the armies mingle, 
And the columns cleft and hewn 

III 

On that far-famed spot by Lodi 
Where Napoleon clove his way 
To his fame, when like a god he 
Bent the nations to his sway. 

IV 

Hence the tune came capering to me 
While I traced the Rhone and Po; 
Nor could Milan's Marvel woo me 
From the spot englamoured so. 

V 

And to-day, sunlit and smiling, 
Here I stand upon the scene, 
With its saffron walls, dun tiling, 
And its meads of maiden green, 

VI 

Even as when the trackway thundered 
With the charge of grenadiers, 
And the blood of forty hundred 
Splashed its parapets and piers . . . 

VII 

Any ancient crone I'd toady 
Like a lass in young-eyed prime, 
Could she tell some tale of Lodi 
At that moving mighty time. 

VIII 

So, I ask the wives of Lodi 
For traditions of that day; 
But alas! not anybody 
Seems to know of such a fray. 

IX 

And they heed but transitory 
Marketings in cheese and meat, 
Till I judge that Lodi's story 
Is extinct in Lodi's street. 

X 

Yet while here and there they thrid them 
In their zest to sell and buy, 
Let me sit me down amid them 
And behold those thousands die . . . 

XI 

- Not a creature cares in Lodi 
How Napoleon swept each arch, 
Or where up and downward trod he, 
Or for his memorial March! 

XII 

So that wherefore should I be here, 
Watching Adda lip the lea, 
When the whole romance to see here 
Is the dream I bring with me? 

XIII 

And why sing "The Bridge of Lodi" 
As I sit thereon and swing, 
When none shows by smile or nod he 
Guesses why or what I sing? . . . 

XIV 

Since all Lodi, low and head ones, 
Seem to pass that story by, 
It may be the Lodi-bred ones 
Rate it truly, and not I. 

XV 

Once engrossing Bridge of Lodi, 
Is thy claim to glory gone? 
Must I pipe a palinody, 
Or be silent thereupon? 

XVI 

And if here, from strand to steeple, 
Be no stone to fame the fight, 
Must I say the Lodi people 
Are but viewing crime aright? 

XVII 

Nay; I'll sing "The Bridge of Lodi" - 
That long-loved, romantic thing, 
Though none show by smile or nod he 
Guesses why and what I sing!
Written by Henry Lawson | Create an image from this poem

Republican Pioneers

 We're marching along, we're gath'ring strong' 
We place on our right reliance, 
We fling in the air, for all who care, 
Our first loud notes of defiance! 
We fling in the air, 
For all who care, 
Our first loud notes of defiance! 

Laugh long and loud, you toady crowd, 
At the men you call benighted, 
In spite of your sneers, we are pioneers 
Of "Australian States United"! 
In spite of your sneers, We are pioneers 
Of "Australian States United"! 

Not long we'll stand as an outlaw band, 
And be in our country lonely, 
For soon to the sky shall ring our cry, 
Our cry of "Australia only"! 
For soon to the sky 
Shall mount our cry, 
Our cry of "Australia only"! 

And we'll sleep sound in Australian ground, 
'Neath the blue-cross flag star lighted, 
When it freely waves o'er the grass-grown graves 
Of the pioneers united! 
When it floats and veers 
O'er the pioneers 
Of "Australian States United"!

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry