THE MIRACLES (1894) 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, Uprose the deep, by gale on gale, To bid me change my mind againHe 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— Earth sold her chosen men of strength I snatched their toil to serve my needs- I sent the lightnings forth to see Dawn ran to meet me at my goal- Rose up to buy and sell again! W THE NATIVE-BORN (1894) E'VE drunk to the Queen-God bless her!— We've drunk to the wide creation, And the Cross swings low for the morn, Last toast, and of obligation, A health to the Native-born! They change their skies above them, We read of the English skylark, Of the spring in the English lanes, But we screamed with the painted lories As we rode on the dusty plains! 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, And our faith and our hope and our honour I charge you charge your glasses— To the men of the Four New Nations, To the last least lump of coral To the hush of the breathless morning To the men of a million acres, To the Sons of the Golden South! To the Sons of the Golden South (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 single blow! To the smoke of a hundred coasters, THE NATIVE-BORN To the land of the waiting springtime, And the children nine and ten (Stand up!), Let a fellow sing o' the little things he cares about, 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 speech we babbled |