THINGS are quiet in far Cooktown, The days are dull and cold, The festive goat has ceased to skip Upon the mountain bold. The Chinamen who run the show Are tired, and broke, and weak; The pub has got its shutters up— The barmaid's in the creek. No more the sweet, rich scent of rum Will roll across the plain; For cash is gone, and tick is done. The red blind glares in vain. A busy city by the sea Has sunk and settled down, A goat, two Chinkies and a dog Now own the blanky town. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...QUI S'EXCUSE S'ACCUSE by MARIANNE MOORE SPRING STORM by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE SPIRES OF OXFORD by WINIFRED MARY LETTS THE LONELY CHILD by JAMES OPPENHEIM BROWN PENNY by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |