Here I can sit at ease on days of rain, And read my Rabelais and my Montaigne, Self-centred as a solitary star That has no satellites its peace to ma… - Victor Daley

The Missionary labours With zeal, and pious art,
And rice, and cabin biscuit, In hope to change his heart;And dear old British ladies The Lord would fain cajole,
And humbly crave that He will save This poor old savage soul.

Long ago I did discover It was fine to be a lover,
But the heartache and the worry spoil the game: Now I think, like an old vandal, That the game's not worth the candle—
And I know some other vandals think the same.

Other Bards I envy not —
Room there is for all, God wot —
All I ask is room for me
On the top branch of the tree.