University of Virginia Library

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QUIS SEPARABIT.

(An answer to those who consider Colonial Independence desirable.)

Why separate? I would that we were one—
Not we, and she, and Canada, alone,
But our lost brothers of the Union.
Union is strength—union is statescraft, too;
And what are we, if England be not with us,
But a few traders fringing the sea-coast
Of a huge half-discovered continent—
A few backwoodsmen pushing out our bounds
A forced-march further in the wilderness
Through peril and starvation, year by year.
We have a noble future, but not yet
Have we emerged from childhood, and our bones
And sinews are not set to manhood's mould;
We are not old enough to leave our home
And launch out into life, like grown-up men;
We could not, by ourselves, maintain the strife
In war, with a great nation, disciplined
And hardened in a thousand years of battles;

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We are the pickets of an army sent
To pioneer and keep a steady watch
Against advancing foes—a vanguard sent
To carry a position, and hold out
Until the reinforcements can come up.
We have done yeoman's service for the State;
But is it wise to call for separation
From the main force, and constitute ourselves
An independent corps, because no foe
Has fronted us, no lurid cloud of war
Darkened our fair horizon?

While we cling
To our great mother we are sons and heirs
To all the heroes in her Abbey laid;
Our fathers fought at Creçy, Agincourt,
Blenheim, Quebec, Trafalgar, Waterloo;
Shakspeare's and Bacon's countrymen are we,
Newton's disciples, friends of Walter Scott,
Fellow-inventors of Watt, Stephenson,
Arkwright, Sir Humphrey Davy, and Wheatstone,
Fellow discoverers of Drake and Cook,
Brothers-in-arms of Wellington and Nelson,
Successors to the Lords of Runnymede,
Assigns of the Petitioners of Right,

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Executors of England's Constitution,
Joint-tenants of the commerce of the world,
Joint-owners of the Empire upon which
The sun sets never, co-heirs of the Fame
Built up by valour, learning, statesmanship,
Integrity, endurance, and devotion,
On land and sea, in fierce and frozen climes,
Through eight blood-stained and glorious centuries.
Divide us, and we sink at once to bourgeois,
Received in the society of nations
For our new wealth, but laughed at secretly
By the proud governments of ancient blood,
Who ever wear their rapiers at their sides
To draw for fancied insults—while poor we,
Like good plain tradesmen, have to put our pride
Into our pocket, and, when one cheek's struck,
Present the other meekly to the smiter.

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