But we must have younger visions, The gulf which severs the rich and poor Yet with the bolder vision, We cleave to you, look to you still, Our strength in a single will; That you build with us out of the coasts of the earth, A realm, a race, and a rede That shall govern the peace of the world and serve The humblest State in her need. Haply we are but tools in the Hand Of a Power we do not know, And not for ourselves we plow the waste, And not for ourselves we sow; Yet by the vision that leads us on To the goal of a single state, We are blessed that our own great weal is woofed With strands of eternal Fate. Come, let us walk together, We who must follow one gleam, Come, let us link our labours, And tell each other our dream; Shakespeare's tongue for our counsels And Nelson's heart for our task-Shall we not answer as one strong man To the things that the people ask? Harold Begbie. (B 838) 6 Emigration EAVE o'er the world your weft, yea weave yourselves, W Imperial races weave the warp thereof. Swift like your shuttle speed the ships, and scoff At wind and wave. And, as a miner delves For hidden treasure bedded deep in stone, So seek ye and find the treasure patriotism In lands remote and dipped with alien chrism, W. M. Rossetti. The Emigrants in Bermuda HERE the remote Bermudas ride, W From a small boat, that rowed along, "What should we do but sing His praise, And yet far kinder than our own? That lift the deep upon their backs; He lands us on a grassy stage, Thus sung they, in the English boat, Marvell. The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers HE breaking waves dash'd high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the heavy night hung dark The hills and water o'er When a band of exiles moor'd their bark Not as the conqueror comes, They, the true-hearted, came, Not with the roll of the stirring drums, They shook the depths of the desert's gloom Amidst the storm they sang, And the stars heard and the sea! And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free. The ocean-eagle soar'd From his nest by the white wave's foam, There were men with hoary hair, Why had they come to wither there Away from their childhood's land? There was woman's fearless eye, There was manhood's brow serenely high, What sought they thus afar? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war?— Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod! They have left unstain'd what there they found,Freedom to worship God! Felicia D. Hemans. England and her Colonies S HE stands, a thousand wintered tree, Her seeds, by careless winds conveyed, Clothe the remotest strand With forests from her scatterings made, O ye by wandering tempest sown Forget not whence the breath was blown |