AN AFRICAN.
There’s a native of Cape Town
Always wears a scarlet crown.
Not a lord of high degree,
But a simple peasant he.
You will see him, if you look,
Resting in some sunny nook.
He’s no Boer nor Englishman,
But a native African!
He just wanders up and down
O’er the wilds of hot Cape Town;
Takes no part in strife or war,—
Doesn’t know what it is for.
Boers may fight if they must needs.
Calm he sits among the weeds.
No soldier he in battle’s hum,
But just a red geranium!