The Spike or Victoria College Review 1936
Through misted panes I watch a soaking town,
As rain drives past my window from the South.
The housetops drip, the gutter overflows
Dammed by a roadside's toy avalanche.
Dustmen in oilskins pass, clerks in waterproofs,
Muttering their maledictions on the day.
The tram is squelching water on the bend,
And cars cling warily to a greasy road.
The landsman curses, but, beyond the port
I hear Pencarrow choking.