A hot weather rime.

Indian Daily News, Wednesday 25 March 1896

Ah me! 'tis here again: the dust and glare, 
The heat progressive.
The swelter that incites the tongue to swear 
Profane—expressive!
As daily mounts the "Max" in sun and shade
I care not whether!
Or bt Fahrenheit or Centigrade
I rail aoth together!

My cry is that the roads are deep in dust, 
The air is hazy!
That if I dine, as dine, alas! I must, 
It makes me lazy!
That if I drink, no matter what it be
(I’m not exacting),
A mighty moisture overwhelmeth me 
In dews distracting!

I seek my couch, but all desire to snooze 
The wheather vetoes.
I toss and tumble restless, and abuse 
The fierce mosquitoes,
Whose fusillading, while the punkah swings, 
Seems one malicious,
Tremendous onslaught of a thousand stings 
And each one vicious!

Some lucky souls are flitting, far and near, 
On leave or duty,
To Simla, Mahableshwar or fair Kashmir, 
Coonoor or Ooty:
But as for me, I’m grilling on the plains, 
Depressed and surly,
And fondly hoping the confounded rains 
Will come full early!

And till they do, I've got my "bike" and tat 
My tub— outcherry!
Young Griffin's everlasting cackle—that 
Is pleasing—very!
The Colonel's "chestnuts" and the Major's whist, 
My pegs and snookers
With Jones, that oracle on side and twist, 
And best of flukers!

Blessings indeed! and if the sage be right, 
Anticipation
Affords to mortals more secure delight 
Than consummation!
So I’ll anticipate and peep behind 
The Future's curtain
By vowing that next year if Fate prove kind, 
I'm Home—for certain!

J. A. N. in the Madras Mail.