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Pilot so soon? set.
His flare it is. The mornin'-watch is
Well, God be thanked, as I was sayin', I'm no Pelagian
'Morrn, Ferguson. Man, have ye ever thought What your good leddy costs in coal?
'em down to port.
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
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 sold her chosen men of strength
I snatched their toil to serve my needs-
And bade them bait a new for me.
I sent the lightnings forth to see
Dawn ran to meet me at my goal-
Rose up to buy and sell again!
E'VE drunk to the Queen-God bless her!—
(But he does not understand);
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
That none may stand outside,
And our own good pride shall teach us
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,
To the rain that never chills