While the majority of people in town and country grumbled peevishly about the heat yesterday, many citizens engaged in summer trades hailed such weather as a belated godsend after an uncertain and profitless summer season.
We stand and gasp in the city street
Or pant in the country glare,
Hurling a curse at the humid heat
And the unrefreshing air;
And we weakly vow this heat-wave can
Bring joy to none who thinks.
Aye. But what about the ice-cream man,
And the cove who sells cool drinks?
Are never these to know the joy
Of a sudden profit earned
And a quick reward in their employ
While the fickle sunlight burned?
But the mercury that never drops
Awakes our dismal wails.
Yet what about the drapers' shops
And the need for summer sales?
We thirst, we drink, we thirst again,
And drink, turn and about,
And realise all effort vain
To ease this endless drought.
We long for grey skies, vapor-hung,
And wish chill winter here.
But what about your old friend Bung
And the steady sale of beer?
Then grieve no more, oh, selfish wight,
When summer suns burn down,
And harp no more upon your plight
By heat-struck field or town.
Rather, in altruistic mood,
Thus let your thought be bent:
"E'en hot north winds may blow some good
To someone. Be content."
First published in The Herald, 28 February 1935
Author reference sites: C.J. Dennis, Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography, Australian Poetry Library
See also.
