Bartlett Adamson

"She trips along the street, a flashing wonder, Dazzling enigma! Courtesan or maid? Temple of chastity, or hall of trade? An angel-presence, or a soul of plunder Casting the doors of sanctitude asunder? A beauteousness, by love and laughter swayed, Or death in immemorial masquerade? A dainty dawn-song, or a snarl of thunder?"

"And Anzac now is an enchanted shore;A tragic splendor, and a holy name;A deed eternity will still acclaim;A loss that crowns the victories of yore;A glittering golden dome for evermoreShining above the minarets of fame."

"The workers of Kembla, those leaders of men, Those leaders of deed as in thought. They challenged the might of the pound and the yen, And there at the 'Delfram' they fought The cause of the Chinese distraught. And still marching onward, With gaze lifted sunward, The call of Eureka is caught. Democracy thrills at that message of yore, The vow of Eureka has echoed once more."