WHILE by the Moon's pale light I stray, And pen[?]ive view her mellowing beam, I love to [?] each vanish'd joy, That met[?] true, pourtrays again. ...
Article : 154 wordsWHEN first above the briny surge AUSTRALIA rear'd her tow'ring crest, The roaring gales, confounded, fled, The troubled billows sunk to rest; ...
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The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (NSW : 1803 - 1842), Thu 4 Mar 1824, Page 4
It's easy and takes two shakes of a lamb's tail!
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