Poem by Andrew Barton Paterson

“Ave Ceasar”

Long ago the Gladiators, 
When the call to combat came, 
Marching past the massed spectators, 
Hailed the Emp’ror with acclaim! 
Voices ringing with the fury 
Of the strife so soon to be, 
Cried, ”O Caesar, morituri 
salutamus te!” 

Nowadays the massed spectators 
See the unaccustomed sight -- 
Legislative gladiators 
Marching to their last great fight; 
Young and old, obscure and famous, 
Hand to hand and knee to knee -- 
Hear the war-cry, ”Salutamus 
morituri te!” 

Fight! Nor be the fight suspended 
Till the corpses strew the plain. 
Ere the grisly strife be ended 
Five and thirty must be slain. 
Slay and spare not, lest another 
Haply may discomfit thee: 
Brother now must war with brother -- 
”Salutamus te!” 

War-torn vet’ran, skilled debater, 
Trickster famed of bridge and road, 
Now for each grim gladiator 
Gapes Oblivion’s drear abode. 
Should the last great final jury 
Turn their thumbs down -- it must be! 
”Ave, Caesar, morituri 
salutamus te!”

1. There’s Another Blessed Horse Fell Down
2. The Wargeilah Handicap
3. The Maori’s Wool
4. “Shouting” for a Camel
5. The Man Who Was Away

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