My Aunt Evangeline has come To visit Melbourne town, Garbed for its Glad Centenary In frill and festal gown. And Aunties says in mincing tones

Day after day, week after burning… A ruthless sun has sucked the fore… Morn after anxious morn men’s glan… The hills, hard-etched against a h… Gay blossoms droop and die.

She danced thro’ life as light as… The grace of Columbine, charm of… These, and that blithesome quality… With memory of her linger by us ye… A fairy, slipping thro’ a world ma…

‘Young sir,’ ‘E sez . . . Like th… Romantic like, as if me dream was… ’Is dress was fancy, an’ 'is style… An’ me? I ‘ope I know ’ow to be’a… In 'igh-toned company, for ain’t…

Now is the healing, quiet hour tha… This gay, green world with peace a… Where lately over opalescent hills The blood of slain Day reddened a… Now comes at Night’s behest,

These be the fruits, O man who wo… The proudest Caesar of Rome’s pro… When legion after legion marched t… That one man might be clothed in b… Torn bodies, bloody fields and the…

So nice it is of you to call . . . Yes; Monday week we done it; Right 'igh-clarse weddin’ - church… Cost Bill a bit to run it. An’ wotjer think ‘e ups and sez

There’s a good time coming in the… And I wish, oh, how I wish that i… There’s a wise day dawning, by the… To usher in the glad millenium. When heaven-sent technocracy displ…

Now, Batman, Prophet Batman, a h… He looked upon this land and found… “'Tis the place to build a village… They straight began - or so I’ve… To fling rude huts together by the…

In the olive groves of Italy Men minds are all aflame; For the war-lust spreads thro’ It… Where war-lords call the game. And they dream of Roman legions

Not upon the crowded beaches Where the sun beats fierce and hot… Not upon the river reaches In a shady silvan spot; But in some deep mountain valley,

Avaunt! What news is this I hear Of portent grim and sinister? Is he, whose words insult mine ear… A mere, upstart Prime Minister? Odds fish! These fellows hithert…

‘I wash me ’ands uv ‘im,’ I tells… ’You women can do wot yeh dash wel… I leave this ‘arf a man to ’is own… I’ve done me bit, an’ now I’m gon… Do wot yeh please; but don’t arsk…

Noo, ye ken, we’ll see 'em agen, Waggling doon the street, While the baton twirls an’ the pip… To the beat of the marching feet. Left– right– glimmerin’ bright,

(I’m not trying to make this thing… But, at the same time, A little interlude like this Is not amiss). We interviewed a Mayor and asked…