A Poetry Book
Posted: Thu Jan 29, 2015 12:53 pm
‘Day All,
I have a book containing about 100 poems. I do not know if it is unusual, rare, or just not been around. The title is ‘Under The Wilgas’ by Mary Gilmore and the reading is a little bit specialised (heavy) for me.
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FOREWORD
A limited number of the verses in this book having appeared in the Bulletin, The Sydney Morning Herald, The Daily Telegraph, The Triad, The Australian Worker, Aussie and The B.P. Magazine, to these, and to any others not mentioned, in republication, acknowledgements is here made.
For the rest only this need be said:-
Among other things urged in self-justification for killing the blacks, it used to be argued of them that they did not speak English. “They talk gibberish. Gibberish is not a language, and God would only count it animal talk.” So, as one who often heard that said (as in later years it has in various ways been more or less said of the South Americans and the Chinese), I have attempted to write here in songs some of the emotions of a people once generous, once wise, once proud and free; and I have written them in words they might have used, had they spoken English instead of the language so unfortunately theirs.
M. G.
Phillip Street,
Sydney,
1932
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This might give an idea as to the contents and there is also a short poem to Henry Lawson that I did like –
“As weeds grow out of graves and vaults,
So from his broken heart his faults;
And yet, so marvellous is power,
His very faults brought forth in flower.”
If any members of our group are interested in studying this book I am happy to pass it around.
Ian.
I have a book containing about 100 poems. I do not know if it is unusual, rare, or just not been around. The title is ‘Under The Wilgas’ by Mary Gilmore and the reading is a little bit specialised (heavy) for me.
-------------------------
FOREWORD
A limited number of the verses in this book having appeared in the Bulletin, The Sydney Morning Herald, The Daily Telegraph, The Triad, The Australian Worker, Aussie and The B.P. Magazine, to these, and to any others not mentioned, in republication, acknowledgements is here made.
For the rest only this need be said:-
Among other things urged in self-justification for killing the blacks, it used to be argued of them that they did not speak English. “They talk gibberish. Gibberish is not a language, and God would only count it animal talk.” So, as one who often heard that said (as in later years it has in various ways been more or less said of the South Americans and the Chinese), I have attempted to write here in songs some of the emotions of a people once generous, once wise, once proud and free; and I have written them in words they might have used, had they spoken English instead of the language so unfortunately theirs.
M. G.
Phillip Street,
Sydney,
1932
-------------------------
This might give an idea as to the contents and there is also a short poem to Henry Lawson that I did like –
“As weeds grow out of graves and vaults,
So from his broken heart his faults;
And yet, so marvellous is power,
His very faults brought forth in flower.”
If any members of our group are interested in studying this book I am happy to pass it around.
Ian.