Red Hibiscus in a Sydney Street

When I look up and see your flaunting headAnd the long tongue that serpent-like shoots out,I ask, as swift thoughts throng in revellers' rout,What in the world as wicked is as red?I see a columned hall and tables spread,A woman, white and red, with smiles that flout,Two wine-flushed suitors and a sudden shout,Quarrel's quick curses, and the red wine shed--A gleam of swords, a bright and startling stain;Fear's frantic flight, and silence in the hall;Save when the night-wind strays in, flower-sweet,And from the gutt'ring candles white drops fall.Hibiscus, you do breathe of passion's pain--Why do you glow by this grey city street?