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AURORA AUSTRALIS.
Darling you really love me?
- Stutters one dreaming swain;
The watchman whispers “Never,”
- And the dreamer writhes in pain.
From the corner cabin a mutter,
- The listener kens not what;
It sounds like “yon pale moon,”
- Or some other poetic rot.
Murder is done in another’s dream
- And falls from shuddering heights;
Erebus rises to dance on the sea
- And the dreamer flees south in tights.
Another sails north on the broken ice
- Just dressed in Nature’s clothes,
Whilst seals and penguins grin in delight
- And the frost plays hell with his toes.
And some see tailors they knew of yore,
- Stalk in with their mile-long bills;
And everyone when morning broke
- Made a rush for calomel pills.
VERITAS.
