Spending with her he loves in lanes—away
From town—his one brief blissful holiday,
Seated in cosy arbour with his lass,
Pledging his love in cups of sparkling Bass.
And then the Volunteer, with gun in hand,
Scaring invaders from his native land,
Seeking, good man, the bubble reputation
In hebdomadal perambulation
In quiet spots—his partner by his side
Taking his youthful progeny for a ride.