On looking up for the first time into Southern skies
From here in the night
It's a strange, awful sight
To lift up your head
And see in the stead
Of the stars that you know,
Strange new figurations
That suddenly grow
Without some forewarning
Or permission of nations
But stand there unsteady
At infinite stations
Until the next morning.
It's very unnerving
To see them all curving
In east to west fashion,
This southerly ration.
And you feel that you are
Well, quite at a loss,
When you look for the Star
But find only a Cross.
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