A valiant Captaine and a noble peere,
Like a rare gemme should be in vertue cleere.
Ever should he all other men excelling,
Xenophon-like have wisedome in him dwelling,
And so you rightly have, who lead so well,
None may your carriage in the Camp excell;
Doubtlesse a noble Alexanders spirit,
Ev'n you right noble Earle do well inherit.
Respecting whom, though you no fortune have,

Such conquests to obtaine as he did brave,
Ever his Manhood you may though retaine,
That teacheth nobly how to lend a traine,

Sons of Australia, be loyal and true to her—
Fling out the flag of the Southern Cross!
Sing a loud song to be joyous and new to her—
Fling out the flag of the Southern Cross!
Stained with the blood of the diggers who died by it,
Fling out the flag to the front, and abide by it—
Fling out the flag of the Southern Cross!

See how the toadies of Austral throw dust o'er her—
Fling out the flag of the Southern Cross!
We who are holding her honour in trust for her—
Fling out the flag of the Southern Cross!

In honour needs must you be, who go in
O honour'd Peere honour'd with what you win:
Honour you unto vertu do, the which
Now back returning honour make you rich.

Great honour you unto the godly doe,
On whom your honour, honour'd Sir you show,
Rendring to those in goodnes who excell
Due noble countenance, where ere they dwell.
On you when therefore they reflect their eye,
Very much honour and true dignitie,
Never they cease to wish you honouredly .

Nearer and ever nearer. ...
My body, tired but tense,
Hovers 'twixt vague pleasure
And tremulous confidence.

Arms to have and to use them
And a soul to be made
Worthy if not worthy;
If afraid, unafraid.

To endure for a little,
To endure and have done:
Men I love about me,
Over me the sun!

And should at last suddenly
Fly the speeding death,
The four great quarters of heaven
Receive this little breath.

With friends you stalwart stand and fair,
To-day of fifty years the heir;
The past your works rejoicing praise,
But forward goes your gaze.
Your childlike faith, your spirit true,
Your hand that never weary grew,
A home's sweet music, love of wife,
Make ever young your life.

You dared believe with heart alive
That here in Norway art can thrive.
You forced the hardness of our stones
To harmony of tones.
You laid our wild world's secrets bare
And caught " The Hunter " near the lair.
Our nation's moods, of beauty born,

I

I awake:
Midnight, star-shouldered, is leaning over me.

I must to my desk, and light the lamp, and stare at the flesh of my hands and legs:
Marveling to breathe and be alive.

I open the window: I lean out in the dark.

Stars! shall you answer my cry tonight?
Earth! shall you turn to the call of your son?
Where is the answerer? Where are the lips of the midnight?
Oh, world, my beloved, whisper to me!

Surely my love for you has been welcome in the darkness of the night:

Our glasses we lift now and drink to our host!
" Hurrah! "
Give heed to our ditty, we sing you our toast!
" Aha! "
The first thing appearing is what he was nearing,
When uproar not fearing he came for a hearing
'Fore skerry-bred eagle
And Wergeland regal.
Oh! Ha!

He came like an innocent spring-lambkin ewe-born,
Oh, woe!
So neat and so fine in his guilelessness new-born
Like snow.
The flesh so delicious was chopped up to farce-meat,
And later by Wergeland found for a farce meet,
And gayly 't was swallowed,

You will often hear them mutter —
Fellow men and brother men —
When he's down and in the gutter:
" O he'll never rise agen! "
And they turn aside and beckon
To the trainers of their pride:
He is one the less to reckon
In the selfish race they ride.

'Tis the old, deep-down survival
Of the savage in mankind:
In the triumph o'er a rival
Whom his weakness left behind.

The dreamer in me keeps on dreaming though my lips are babbling and my eyes are watchful ...
I may be in the railroad terminal speaking to a friend.
The dreamer is on a warm moist hill under the cloud-soft skies,
He feels the Earth moving and smells the flowers down to their roots,
He pierces the blue heavens with his wings.
Then I look round and think, how strange:
Stone walls: crowds: my friend and I ...
Yet all of us seen by the dreamer as a little blur in the skies,
As a patter in immensity ...
Where are we? where is Earth? where are the skies?

Fair noble Peere, whose certainest defence
Rightly is you retaine a by fair senc ;
A by senc 'tis, when as by vertue led,
Nobly you seem so to be honoured;
Chusing so, by to lead your senc thereby,
In you we rightly a by senc descry;
So for a fair senc , vertue is so fair ,

How can the vertuous possible, but rare,
And fair by beams of vertue to display,
Yeeld forth a fair by senc , with wondrous ray;
Even so do you, may I truly say.