Read "Collected Poetry" by Andrew Barton Paterson online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
My Uncle Bill! My Uncle Bill! How doth my heart with anguish thrill! For he, our chief, our Robin Hood, Has gone to jail for stealing wood! With tears and sobs my voice I raise To celebrate my uncle's praise; With all my strength, with all my skill, I'll sing the song of Uncle Bill.
Convivial to the last degree, An open-hearted sportsman he. Did midnight howls our slumbers rob, We said, "It's uncle 'on the job'." When sounds of fight rang sharply out, Then Bill was bound to be about, The foremost figure in "the scrap", A terror to the local "trap".