Poems (Forrest)/The lascar
THE LASCAR
His slop-made suit is of a British cut,His boots are good Australian, and his tieWas woven somewhere Melbourne way; his handBears a gold ring a Pitt-street jeweller wrought,And in that hand he carries with an airA tattered magazine from U.S.A.But over his brown eyes and sepia faceAnd pointed beard of wiry, iron grey,His head is swathed about with dingy foldsOf the thick turban, worn perhaps to proveThe part he thinks with—that is Islam still!