A Flower Song for Suburban Gardeners

"Plant chrysanthemums today."—Garden note on Caulfield Cup day.

I'm going to plant chrysanthemums,
    And the world may all go wrong.
I'm singing the songs that all day long,
    Old Father Adam sang
'Ere the serpent came with the
    smiling game
And whispered the first "sure tip."
And Adam, of course, on a losing
    horse
Was left with the primal pip.

Chorus:
Oh, I'm going to plant chrysanthemums—
    Anthemums. Cheer O!
In my garden plot, with trowel and
    pot,
    Weeder and fork and hoe.
What do I care for the laggard
    mare,
Or the horse that was just too
    slow?
For I'm going to plant chrysanthem-
    ums—
    Anthemums! What Ho!

Oh, I laugh with glee whenever I see
    A fool with his glasses slung,
And the confident mien of a punter
    green,
For I know he will soon be "stung."
And as he regrets his foolish bets
    In the distant days to come,
I'll be plucking the flowers in sunny
    hours—
    The happy chrysanthemum.

Chorus:
So I'm going to plant chrysanthemums—
    Anthemums! Hooray!
The bundle of risks called politics
    Is nothing to me today.
In my oldest shirt I delve in the
    dirt,
I'll plant 'em and watch 'em grow,
While the punter moans and hangs
    more pain.
Chrysanthemums! What Ho!