Collins Street

As I passed over Collins street
   Where shadows fret the tree-lined way,
A dapper man I chanced to meet
   Whose manner was not grave nor gay.
His nice demeanour would denote
   A sad importance touched by hope:
And from the pocket of his coat
   Peeping I saw a stethescope.

I marked his calculating eye
   Roam o'er my figure, up and down,
While just the whisper of a sigh
   Went with the shadow of a frown.
And whether 'twas he spoke in guile
   Or very truth I cannot tell,
As he said to me with a smile,
   "I hope you're well."