Original Poetry.

Evening Star, Issue 3608, 15 September 1874, Page 3

Original Poetry.

THE HOUSE-HUNTER’S LAMENT.

“ Oh, for a lodge in some vast wilderness !” Exclaims a poet I’ve 1 lately been leadin’; He now would find it quite as hard, I guess, To find his lodging somewhere in Dunedin. I seek a house, but ftll in vain I try j Last Week, alas | my landlord raised my rent; His formet promises proved “all my eye !” And be stuck on just twenty-fire per cent. ! So the next morning to my wife I cried, When of my boots I had the cleansing done, 'We’ll take a bouse in town whate’er betide, And quit for over muddy Kensington.” So she set out in search that very day, And far and near she wandered to and fro, From Roslyn heights to far Pelichet Bay, From Carersbam to distant Opobo North, south, and west she sought o’er hill and plain— 1 ii. By Maori Hill, and round by Kaikorai; She roamed for days, and roamed. alas| in vain— No house “ to let ” did ever strike her eye. And oft she heard the same vexatious tale : “You come too late, !twas' let two hours before !” Or, “This is not to let, but is for sale Or, “ ust last week I knew of three or four.” ** Build us more houses !” is what many say, But bo contented with fifteen per cent., Nor seek, as most are doing now, to pay The whole expenses but of four years’ rent.