The Spike: or, Victoria University College Review, June 1922

The Intellect's Illusions

The Intellect's Illusions.

All liars they who sing of rural charm,
The subtle sweetness of the bovine breath,
Bucolic joy in trudging round a farm:
He lies who cries,
"Give me a ploughman's death."

I have no time for men who say they see
In bank-accounts no qualities that please,
Who'd sooner pauper than Professor be;
In Hell they tell
No bigger lies than these.

And mentally deficient all who claim
They don't believe in benedictine bliss,
Who spend their lives avoiding Cupid's aim
And never ev—
Er felt a maiden's kiss.

Ah! give to me the roaring city life,
With tons of money (relatives deceased).
What more? Oh yes, Priscilla for a wife;
Below I'll go,
But happily at least.

—R. W. C.