Slow below the Wynberg firs trails the tilted wain Take the flower and turn the hour, and kiss your love again! Buy my English posies!- Gathered where the Erskine leaps Down the road to Lorne Buy my Christmas creeper And I'll say where you were born! West away from Melbourne dust holidays beginThey that mock at Paradise woo at Cora Lynn→→ Through the great South Otway gums sings the great South Main Take the flower and turn the hour, and kiss your love again! Buy my English posies!- Buy a blood-red myrtle-bloom, 102 Flung for gift on Taupo's face Sign that spring is come Buy my clinging myrtle And I'll give you back your home! Broom behind the windy town; pollen o' the pine Bell-bird in the leafy deep where the ratas twine Fern above the saddle-bow, flax upon the plainTake the flower and turn the hour, and kiss your love again! Buy my English posies! Ye that have your own Overseas, alone. Weed ye trample underfoot Floods his heart abrim Bird ye never heeded, Oh, she calls his dead to him! Far and far our homes are set round the Seven Seas. Woe for us if we forget, we that hold by these! Unto each his mother-beach, bloom and bird and land Masters of the Seven Seas, oh, love and under stand! THE LAST RHYME OF TRUE THOMAS. THE King has called for priest and cup, The King has taken spur and blade To dub True Thomas a belted knight, And all for the sake o' the songs he made. They have sought him high, they have sought him low, They have sought him over down and lea; They have found him by the milk-white thorn That guards the gates o' Faerie. 'Twas bent beneath and blue above, Their eyes were held that they might not see "Now cease your song," the King he said, "Oh, cease your song and get you dight To vow your vow and watch your arms, For I will dub you a belted knight. "For I will give you a horse o' pride, Wi' blazon and spur and page and squire; True Thomas smiled above his harp, "I ha' vowed my vow in another place, I ha' watched my arms the lee-long night, "My lance is tipped o' the hammered flame, "And what should I make wi' a horse o' pride, And what should I make wi' a sword so brown, But spill the rings o' the Gentle Folk And flyte my kin in the Fairy Town? "And what should I make wi' blazon and belt, Wi' keep and tail and seizin and fee, And what should I do wi' page and squire "For I send east and I send west, "They come wi' news of the groanin' earth, The King he bit his nether lip, And smote his hand upon his knee: "By the faith o' my soul, True Thomas," he said, "Ye waste no wit in courtesie! "As I desire, unto my pride. Can I make Earls by three and three, To run before and ride behind And serve the sons o' my body." |