# Correggio Jones

Correggio Jones an artist was  Of pure Australian race, But native subjects scorned because  They were too commonplace.
The Bush with all its secrets grim,  And solemn mystery, No fascination had for him:  He had no eyes to see
The long sad spectral desert-march  Of brave Explorers dead, Who perished — while the burning arch  Of blue laughed overhead;
The Solitary Man who stares  At the mirage so fair, While Death steals on him unawares  And grasps him by the hair;
The Lonely Tree that sadly stands,  With no green neighbor nigh, And stretches forth its bleached, dead hands,  For pity, to the sky;
The Grey Prospector, weird of dress,  And wearied overmuch, Who dies amidst the wilderness —  With Fortune in his clutch;
The figures of the heroes gone  Who stood forth undismayed, And Freedom's Flag shook forth upon  Eureka's old stockade.
These subjects to Correggio Jones  No inspiration brought; He was an ass (in semi-tones)  And painted — as he thought.
"In all these things there's no Romance,"  He muttered, with a sneer; "They'll never give C. Jones a chance  To make his genius clear!"
"Grey gums," he cried, "and box-woods pale  They give my genius cramp
But let me paint some Knights in Mail,  Or robbers in a camp.
"Now look at those Old Masters — they  Had all the chances fine With churches dim, and ruins grey,  And castles on the Rhine,
"And lady grey in minever,  And hairy-shirted saint, And Doges in apparel fair —  And things a man might paint!
"And barons bold and pilgrims pale,  And battling Knight and King — The blood-spots on their golden mail —  And all that sort of thing!
"Your Raphael and your Angelo  And Rulwns, and such men, They simply had a splendid show,  Give me the same — and then!"
So speaks Correggio Jones — yet sees,  When past is Night's eclipse, The Dawn come like Harpocrates,  A rose held to her lips.
The wondrous dawn that is so fair,  So young and bright and strong, That e'en the rocks and stones to her  Sing a Memnonic song.
He will not see that our sky-hue  Old Italy's outvies, But still goes yearning for the blue  Of far Ausoniam skies.
He yet is painting at full bat —  You'll say, if him you see, "His body dwells on Gander Flat,"  His soul's in Italy.
This work is in the public domain in Australia because it was created in Australia and the term of copyright has expired. According to Australian Copyright Council - Duration of Copyright, the following works are public domain:
* published non-government works whose author died before January 1, 1955,
* anonymous or pseudonymous works and photographs published before January 1, 1955, and
* government works published more than 50 years ago (before January 1, 1974).
This work is also in the public domain in the United States because it was first published outside the United States (and not published in the U.S. within 30 days), and it was first published before 1989 without complying with U.S. copyright formalities (renewal and/or copyright notice) and it was in the public domain in Australia on the URAA date (January 1, 1996). This is the combined effect of Australia having joined the Berne Convention in 1928, and of 17 USC 104A with its critical date of January 1, 1996.
Because the Australian copyright term in 1996 was 50 years, the critical date for copyright in the United States under the URAA is January 1, 1946.
This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse