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Happy Song by Zora Cross

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I am too much alive to sing.
I want to shout and leap and fling
My laughing arms into the air
And dance on tip-toe everywhere.
With not a thought and not a dream,
I want to skip beside a stream
In Arcady, in Arcady,
And woo the wood-gods all to me.

I want to feel them chase me down
Among the grasses green and brown,
With many a mad and merry cry
Of Youth and Gladness ringing high,
Till reeling frolic, drunk with mirth,
Sinks to exhaustion on the earth.
In Arcady, in Arcady!
Tra-la-la-la, who catches me?

First published in The Bulletin, 7 February 1918;
and later in
The Lilt of Life by Zora Cross, 1918.

Weary by C. J. Dennis

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Aw, I'm sick o' the whole darn human race,
   An' I'm sick o' this mundane ball;
I'm sick o' the sight o' me brother's face,
   An' his works an' talk an' all;
I'm sick o' the silly sounds I hear,
   I'm sick o' the sights I see;
Ole Omar K. he knew good cheer,
   An' it's much the same with me.

Gimme a bit o' a bough to sit
   Beneath, an' a book of rhyme,
An' a cuddlesome girl that sings a bit,
   But don't sing all the time:
That's all I ask, an' it's only just;
   For it's all that I hold dear --
A bough an' a book an' a girl an' a crust;
   That, an' a jug o' beer.

Then I'll cuddle me girl an' I'll quaff me ale
   As we sit on the leafy floor;
An' when the book an' the beer jug fail,
   I'll cuddle me girl some more.
For jugs give out an' books get slow.
   But you can take my tip for square
Tho' the bough an' the book an' the beer jug go,
   The girl, she's always there.

For I'm sick o' the sight o' me brother's face,
   An' the world's a sight too slow;
An' I'm sick o' tryin' to go the pace,
   When there ain't no pace to go;
I'm sick o' the "gilded halls of vice,"
   An' I'm sick o' the "sainted shrine,"
I'm sick o' me own an' me friends' advice,
   An' the gold that won't be mine.

I'm sick o' the sound o' me fellow's voice,
   I'm sick o' his schemes an' shams;
O' trying to choose when there ain't no choice,
   An' of damin' several dams;
So, gimme a girl that ain't too slow,
  You can keep your book of rhyme,
An' you bough an' bread an' your beer.  Wot O!
   An' I'll cuddle her all the time.

First published in The Gadfly, 18 April 1906;
and later in
The Bulletin, 21 August 1913; and
Backblock Ballads and Other Verses by C.J. Dennis, 1913.

The Quest by Emily Coungeau

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Lo! I have sought thee, Happiness,  
   Beneath the sun,
Whose golden core doth Earth caress
   Till day is done.
Where scintillating stars appear,
   Breathing of thee,
As quivering in the vault of air
   They seem to see.
And where pearl girdled proud Selene,  
   With queenly grace,
Climbeth the stairs of Heaven, serene
   With smiling face.
And where in grove and woodland dell,
   So sweetly meek,
Shy, drooping dew crowned violets dwell
   Did I seek.
There at length I thee have found
   In solitude,
Where but echoes soft resound,
   Zephyr wooed.
And with books of hero lore
   There thou art,
And the chaplets which they bore,
   And my heart.
Happiness, I would not lose
   Thou so dear;
All may find thee if they choose
   Ever near.

First published in The Brisbane Courier, 14 May 1913;
and later in
Rustling Leaves: Selected Poems by Emily Coungeau, 1920.

Author reference sites: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography

See also.

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