But we must have younger visions,
And mightier dreams than yours;
Cleaner Londons and wider fields,
And a statelier bridge to span

The gulf which severs the rich and poor
In the brotherly ranks of Man.

Yet with the bolder vision,

We cleave to you, look to you still,
That you gather our scattered toil and bind

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,
And make those new lands heart-dear and your own.
Weave o'er the world yourselves. Half-human man
Wanes from before your faces like a cloud
Sun-stricken, and his soil becomes his shroud.
But of your souls and bodies ye shall make
The sov'reign vesture of its leagueless span,
Clothing with history cliff and wild and lake.

W. M. Rossetti.

The Emigrants in Bermuda

HERE the remote Bermudas ride,
In the ocean's bosom unespied,

W

From a small boat, that rowed along,
The listening winds received this song:

"What should we do but sing His praise,
That led us through the watery maze,
Unto an isle so long unknown,

And yet far kinder than our own?
Where He the huge sea-monsters wracks,

That lift the deep upon their backs;

He lands us on a grassy stage,
Safe from the storms, and prelates' rage.
He gave us this eternal spring,
Which here enamels everything,
And sends the fowls to us in care,
On daily visits through the air;
He hangs in shades the orange bright,
Like golden lamps in a green night,
And does in the pomegranates close
Jewels more rich than Ormus shows;
He makes the figs our mouths to meet,
And throws the melons at our feet;
But apples plants at such a price,
No tree could ever bear them twice;
With cedars chosen by His hand,
From Lebanon, He stores the land,
And makes the hollow seas that roar,
Proclaim the ambergris on shore;
He cast (of which we rather boast)
The Gospel's pearl upon our coast,
And in these rocks for us did frame
A temple where to sound His name.
Oh! let our voice His praise exalt,
Till it arrive at Heaven's vault,
Which, thence (perhaps) rebounding, may
Echo beyond the Mexique Bay."

Thus sung they, in the English boat,
An holy and a cheerful note;
And all the way, to guide their chime,
With falling oars they kept the time.

Marvell.

The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers

HE breaking waves dash'd high

On a stern and rock-bound coast,
And the woods against a stormy sky
Their giant branches tost:

And the heavy night hung dark

The hills and water o'er

When a band of exiles moor'd their bark
On the wild New England shore.

Not as the conqueror comes,

They, the true-hearted, came,

Not with the roll of the stirring drums,
And the trumpet that sings of fame;

They shook the depths of the desert's gloom
With their hymns of lofty cheer.

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,
And the rocking pines of the forest roar'd—
This was their welcome home!

There were men with hoary hair,
Amidst that pilgrim-band—

Why had they come to wither there

Away from their childhood's land?

There was woman's fearless eye,
Lit by her deep love's truth;

There was manhood's brow serenely high,
And the fiery heart of youth.

What sought they thus afar?
Bright jewels of the mine?

The wealth of seas, the spoils of war?—
They sought a faith's pure shrine!

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,
By countless morns impearled;
Her broad roots coil beneath the sea,
Her branches sweep the world;

Her seeds, by careless winds conveyed, Clothe the remotest strand

With forests from her scatterings made,
New nations fostered in her shade,
And linking land with land.

O ye by wandering tempest sown
'Neath every alien star,

Forget not whence the breath was blown
That wafted you afar!