Antipodean Horace

Carmen V.

What scented stripling thee doth woo
In cosy corner at the dance?
For whom dost thou thy tresses do,
So artless in thy elegance?

Laura, how oft will he bewail
Thy fickle faith and fortune's change,
And wonder at the sullen gale,
Unused the stormy seas to range?

Who basks now in thy golden sun,
And fondly dreams thee ever kind,
With heart-room for no other one,
He little knows the treacherous wind.

Poor wretches, they to whom afar
An eldorado thou dost loom; For me,
I thank my lucky star,
That I have just escaped their doom.

—A. F. T. Chorlton.

"Spike," 1909. "The Old Clay Patch," 1920.