 | A Summer Christmas and a Sonnet upon The S.S. "Ballaarat." |  |
153
Of the migrating ‘mobs’ had passed,
Some dozen dying birds and dead
Lay on the ground or with sunk head
Floated upon the shallow pool
Which linked the two lagoons—so cool
And calculating was the aim
With which they timed the passing game.
| A Summer Christmas and a Sonnet upon The S.S. "Ballaarat." | |