Salient. An Organ of Student Opinion at Victoria College, Wellington, N.Z. Vol. 1, No. 4 March 30, 1938
I found you growing on a hill
And thought you like a daffodil:
You threw your gay hair back, and then
I thought you like a cyclamen.
And falling for your holus-bolus,
Thought you like a gladiolus.
You drugged my [unclear: sensata] and my honour,
Poisoned like the belladonna.
Wrecked my life and drove me silly:
(Still. I thought you like a lily)
Till of wealth my little fund you
Sucked the substance like a sun dew.
Now you've gone I haven't got any
Girl or gold or taste for botany.