poem, presumed to have been written by Thomas Graham was found in
family papers held by a descendant in Tasmania, Australia. The only
date shown was 1st June.
Where are you going poor Whitehouse Looking so bashful and
I remember the day gentle Whitehouse
You would not have thus passed me by.
Is love then the cause of thy sadness?
The anxieties now you do feel
When I knew you your heart was all gladness Save a pang now and then
I assure you we feel for you Whitehouse
I pity you too from my heart,
And only regret gentle Whitehouse
That I cannot some comfort impart.
You sent me a cat simple Whitehouse. Emblematic you told me of me
Now I'm far more merciful, Whitehouse. Choose a mouse as a symbol
For you flee at the prospect of danger
From Puss who torments, to a trap
Set to capture each innocent stranger
By Cupid, that mischievous chap.
You got loving verses too Whitehouse
Tho' in my name, I'm sure your good sense Will whisper to you gentle
It was only another pretence.
Meant to reveal tender feelings
By one far more precious to thee.
Now thank me for kindly revealing
What a true lover never can see.
But I'll caution her not to torment you
Lest you cast her away like the pet
Which I gave as a pledge of forgiveness
And that now't is too late to regret.
But the Past I forgive gentle Whitehouse
For the mirth you have often caused me
And nothing would please me more Whitehouse Than at Hymen's kind altar
So landlike a sacrifice driven
And blushingly promise to make
The best of all possible husbands
And how you will mutter and shake.
But you are a good looking fellow
And a steady young man your friends say
And another perfection I'll tell you
A Purser has also good pay
Love like May dew is a fable
Which we seek at the morning of life
I'll not waste fine words, though I'm able But wish you good sense
in a wife.