THE MIRACLES. I SENT a message to my dear A thousand leagues and more to herThe dumb sea-levels thrilled to hear, And Lost Atlantis bore to her. Behind my message hard I came, And nigh had found a grave for me; But that I launched of steel and flame Did war against the wave for me. Uprose the deep, by gale on gale, He broke his teeth along my rail, And, roaring, swung behind again. I stayed the sun at noon to tell I read the storm before it fell And made the better haste of it. 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 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, But not their hearts that roam! Of the spring in the English lanes, They passed with their old-world legends Their tales of wrong and dearth— Our fathers held by purchase, 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 That none may stand outside, 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! |