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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.