Afar, I hailed the land at night The towers I built had heard of meAnd, ere my rocket reached its height, Had flashed my Love the word of me. Earth gave her chosen men of strength I snatched their toil to serve my needsToo slow their fleetest flew for me I tired twenty smoking steeds, And bade them bait a new for me. I sent the lightnings forth to see Where hour by hour she waited me. Dawn ran to meet us at my goal Ah, day no tongue shall tell again!— And little folk of little soul Rose up to buy and sell again! THE NATIVE-BORN. WE'VE drunk to the Queen-God bless her!- And the Cross swings low to the morn, Last toast, and of obligation, A health to the Native-born! They change their skies above them, We read of the English sky-lark, Of the spring in the English lanes, They passed with their old-world legends- But we by the right of birth; Our heart's where they rocked our cradle, Our love where we spent our toil, And our faith and our hope and our honour We pledge to our native soil! I charge you charge your glasses- To the men of the Four New Nations, And the Islands of the Sea To the last least lump of coral To the hush of the breathless morning To the Sons of the Golden South. To the Sons of the Golden South, (Stand up!) And the life we live and know, Let a fellow sing o' the little things he cares about, If a fellow fights for the little things he cares about With the weight of a single blow! To the smoke of a hundred coasters, To the rain that never chills- And the children nine and ten, (Stand up!) Let a fellow sing o' the little things he cares about, If a fellow fights for the little things he cares about With the weight of a two-fold blow! To the far-flung fenceless prairie Where the quick cloud-shadows trail, To the home of the floods and thunder, To the last and the largest Empire, To our dear dark foster-mothers, To the heathen songs they sungTo the heathen speech we babbled Ere we came to the white man's tongue. To the cool of our deep verandas- To the blaze of our jewelled main, To the night, to the palms in the moonlight. And the fire-fly in the cane! |