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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