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Ancient Australia by C.J. Dennis

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(A German scientist, Dr. Herman Klatsch, after a visit to Warrnambool, Vic., formed the theory that Australia was the first home of the human race.)

A Teuton anthropologist -- you'll have to sneeze his name --
Discovered things at Warrnambool that made him glad he came;
For Warrnambool was once the home of neolithic man
When Nature fashioned things upon a slightly larger plan.

Australia was prominent in days before the Fall,
For it bore the early masters of this ancient mundane ball.
No doubt the chap whose hairiness comprised his only "duds"
Once throve at Warrnambool by growing prehistoric spuds.

No doubt he bought the market up -- formed corners, trusts and rings;
And, if we let our fancy play, no doubt - why, lots of things.
The prehistoric "Bushy Bill," with whiskers on his neck;
Came down to bust his bit of flint -- his neolithic cheque.

And then, no doubt, he "got 'em" -- not the modern snakes and frogs
But purple Loxolophodons and mammoth Goliwogs;
And on "The Block," in Collins Street, with tail of latest shape,
There strutted, in the days of old, the Anthropoidal Ape.

'Twas there he met his "little girl," and took her to the play.
With a wing of Dodo after, at the cafe of the day;
While the prehistoric punter had his day at Flemington,
And lost his bit of sandstone on his favorite Mastodon.

In Toorak lived Coryphodons, Dinocreas, and such --
The heavy aristocracy, who were respected much;
And the pushites of old Collingwood appeared in ancient docks
For pelting prehistoric "cops" with tertiary rocks.

Then the very early artists did their "little things" in stone,
Or executed etchings on a bit of mammoth bone;
And the critics who were hostile at the ancient private view,
With their little works of art the early artists promptly slew.

Within the caves in Spring Street dwelt a noisy, wrangling crowd,
Who used stone axes in debate, and argued long and loud.
In ancient "lingo," high above the din.  "Yes No"! would shout
A stoutish man who led a dry Coryphodon about.

But tho' these ancient, hairy chaps were partial to a row,
And tho; they had their troubles in the early days, as now,
On the whole, the early public most contented must have been,
For we cannot trace one poet in "the early Eocene."

First published in The Gadfly, 14 February 1906

Evolution by Emily Coungeau

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A child of the Sun I am ages old,
I live on the Past, and its wisdom unfold;
A Handmaid of Nature my dwelling unseen,
I'm integrally part of whatever has been.
Like a meteor I sprang from the womb of the Sky.
For of Sun dust and Star dust an atom am I;
Whatever my place in Cosmogonic Laws,
I belong to the Great and Invisible Cause.   
Incorporate yet with the corporate mind
I resolve myself, evolve, and govern Mankind.
I was nursed in Oblivion, with Silence was reared,
Controlling Man's destiny, ever unheard;
I press through the centuries slowly, but sure,
And I never may rest until Time be no more.   
An Atom of mighty centrifugal force,
No power can destroy or can alter my course;
Though Earth and her Satellite fall like a star,
I still will rejoice on some Planet afar.
A Mentor I am if Man will but read,
For Cause and Effect are God's agents indeed.   
Though I ever despoil, yet I ever renew,
And I silently work where no mortal may view:  
I move on the Mountains, I move in the Deep,
I never am still, yet eternally sleep;
Like the dew of the morning refreshing the ground  
I bless and am blended with all things around.
From the steps of the past to the future I climb,
For from Heaven I am sent with a message sublime:    
On the Rocks -- Nature's Book -- my traces I leave,
That in me -- Evolution -- you all may believe.

First published in The Brisbane Courier, 5 February 1913;
and later in
Rustling Leaves: Selected Poems by Emily Coungeau, 1920.

Author reference sites: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography

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