In Cornwall and Across the Sea With Poems Written in Devonshire. By Douglas B. W. Sladen |
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 | In Cornwall and Across the Sea |  |
250
“ADVANCE, AUSTRALIA!”
[To the Unfederated Colonies of Australia who are
sending Troops to the Soudan.]
A sound from the shimmering towns
On Australia's strand;
A sound from the sheep-studded downs
In the heart of the land;
'Tis a sound they have heard not before,
'Tis the voice of the Spirit of War.
On Australia's strand;
A sound from the sheep-studded downs
In the heart of the land;
'Tis a sound they have heard not before,
'Tis the voice of the Spirit of War.
To hardship and peril inured
Is the bush-pioneer,
Who thirst at its worst hath endured,
And who dreads not the spear
Of the native who lurks in the pass,
Or the fang of the snake in the grass.
Is the bush-pioneer,
Who thirst at its worst hath endured,
And who dreads not the spear
Of the native who lurks in the pass,
Or the fang of the snake in the grass.
251
Enamoured of pleasure and ease,
Is the dweller in town,
Of sports in the sun and the breeze,
Till the darkness comes down,
Of dances and dreamy delight
In the balmier air of the night.
Is the dweller in town,
Of sports in the sun and the breeze,
Till the darkness comes down,
Of dances and dreamy delight
In the balmier air of the night.
But no bushman will stay with his sheep
On the far away downs,
And his pleasure no lounger shall keep
In the shimmering towns
Whom Australia has summoned to go
To the war on her Motherland's foe.
On the far away downs,
And his pleasure no lounger shall keep
In the shimmering towns
Whom Australia has summoned to go
To the war on her Motherland's foe.
O land of the vine-hidden hill
And the wide-growing wheat,
Where only Peace lingereth still
In the track of our feet,
We rejoice that the Spirit of Pride
In caresses of Peace hath not died.
And the wide-growing wheat,
Where only Peace lingereth still
In the track of our feet,
We rejoice that the Spirit of Pride
In caresses of Peace hath not died.
252
O land of the gold garnished reef
And the sheep-studded plain,
Thou dost not forget us in grief
Or forsake us in pain:
O land of the wool and the wine,
And the corn and the gold, we are thine.
And the sheep-studded plain,
Thou dost not forget us in grief
Or forsake us in pain:
O land of the wool and the wine,
And the corn and the gold, we are thine.
II.
An evil more deadly than war
For the free to deplore,
Is loss of the spirit which fills
Wild morasses and hills
With that feeling of home, that made bold
The Scot and the Switzer of old.
For the free to deplore,
Is loss of the spirit which fills
Wild morasses and hills
With that feeling of home, that made bold
The Scot and the Switzer of old.
The mother of nations is she
And the friend of the free;
Till free men have fought for one cause,
Not a legion of laws
Can an Athens or England create
Though its rulers declare it a state.
And the friend of the free;
Till free men have fought for one cause,
Not a legion of laws
Can an Athens or England create
Though its rulers declare it a state.
253
III
Go forth, O, our children, and prove
That the peace of the skies
Which shine on the land that you love
Hath not weakened your eyes
For the glare of the lightning which plays
Where the soldier must gather his bays.
That the peace of the skies
Which shine on the land that you love
Hath not weakened your eyes
For the glare of the lightning which plays
Where the soldier must gather his bays.
Go forth from your east and your west,
From your north and your south,
Be the best in the battle your best,
Share each peril and drouth
That when back in Australia again,
You the comrades of camp may remain.
From your north and your south,
Be the best in the battle your best,
Share each peril and drouth
That when back in Australia again,
You the comrades of camp may remain.
Is envy to silence her voice,
And your empire to come?
It will be when the rivals rejoice
Over honour brought home,
And lament over comrades in doom
Who may fall in the breach at Khartoum.
And your empire to come?
It will be when the rivals rejoice
Over honour brought home,
And lament over comrades in doom
Who may fall in the breach at Khartoum.
| In Cornwall and Across the Sea | |