Into old rhyme
The new words come but shyly.
Here's a brave man
Who sings of commerce dryly.
Swift-gliding cars
Through town and country winging,
Like cigarettes,
Are deemed unfit for singing.
Into old rhyme
New words come tripping slowly.
Hail to the time
When they possess it wholly.
More verses by Lesbia Harford
- Now I'Ve Been Three Days
- Little Ships
- O Little Plum Tree In The Garden, You'Re
- Weekend At Mt. Dandenong
- Street Scene—little Lonsdale St.
