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Voices of jackals calling

And, loud in the hush between,

A morsel of dry earth falling

From the flanks of the scarred ravine.

And the solemn firmament marches,
And the hosts of heaven rise
Framed through the iron arches-
Banded and barred by the ties,

Till we feel the far track humming,
And we see her headlight plain,
And we gather and wait her coming-
The wonderful north-bound train.

(Few, forgotten and lonely,

Where the white car-windows shine

No, not combatants-only

Details guarding the line.)

Quick, ere the gift escape us!
Out of the darkness we reach
For a handful of week-old papers
And a mouthful of human speech.

And the monstrous heaven rejoices,
And the earth allows again,
Meetings, greetings, and voices
Of women talking with men.

So we return to our places,

As out on the bridge she rolls; And the darkness covers our faces,

And the darkness re-enters our souls.

More than a little lonely

Where the lessening tail-lights shine. No not combatants-only Details guarding the line!



LIVED a woman wonderful,
(May the Lord amend her!)

Neither simple, kind, nor true,
But her Pagan beauty drew
Christian gentlemen a few
Hotly to attend her.

Christian gentlemen a few
From Berwick unto Dover;
For she was South Africa,
And she was South Africa,
She was Our South Africa,
Africa all over!

Half her land was dead with drouth,
Half was red with battle;
She was fenced with fire and sword
Plague on pestilence outpoured,
Locusts on the greening sward

And murrain on the cattle!

True, ah true, and overtrue.
That is why we love her!
For she is South Africa,
And she is South Africa,
She is Our South Africa,
Africa all over!

Bitter hard her lovers toiled, Scandalous their payment,Food forgot on trains derailed; Cattle-dung where fuel failed; Water where the mules had staled; And sackcloth for their raiment!

So she filled their mouths with dust And their bones with fever; Greeted them with cruel lies; Treated them despiteful-wise; Meted them calamities

Till they vowed to leave her!

They took ship and they took sail,
Raging, from her borders-
In a little, none the less,
They forgat their sore duresse,
They forgave her waywardness
And returned for orders!

They esteemed her favour more
Than a Throne's foundation.
For the glory of her face

Bade farewell to breed and race

Yea, and made their burial-place
Altar of a Nation!

Wherefore, being bought by blood,

And by blood restored

To the arms that nearly lost,
She, because of all she cost,
Stands, a very woman, most
Perfect and adored!

On your feet, and let them know

This is why we love her!
For she is South Africa,
She is Our South Africa,
Is Our Own South Africa,
Africa all over!



(C. J. Rhodes, buried in the Matoppos, April 10, 1902)

WHEN that great Kings return to clay,
Or Emperors in their pride,

Grief of a day shall fill a day,

Because its creature died.

But we we reckon not with those
Whom the mere Fates ordain,
This Power that wrought on us and goes
Back to the Power again.

Dreamer devout, by vision led

Beyond our guess or reach,
The travail of his spirit bred
Cities in place of speech.

So huge the all-mastering thought that drove-
So brief the term allowed-
Nations, not words, he linked to prove

His faith before the crowd.

It is his will that he look forth
Across the world he won-
The granite of the ancient North—
Great spaces washed with sun.

There shall he patient take his seat
(As when the Death he dared),
And there await a people's feet
In the paths that he prepared.

There, till the vision he foresaw
Splendid and whole arise,
And unimagined Empires draw
To council 'neath his skies,
The immense and brooding Spirit still
Shall quicken and control.

Living he was the land, and dead,
His soul shall be her soul!



I 904

"And Joseph dreamed a dream, and he told it his brethren and they hated him yet the more."—Genesis xxxvii. 5.

OH YE who hold the written clue

To all save all unwritten things,

And, half a league behind, pursue

The accomplished Fact with flouts and flings,
Look! To your knee your baby brings

The oldest tale since Earth began—

The answer to your worryings:

"Once on a time there was a Man."

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