POETRY.

•

A REJOINDER.

SAY if you will that we are bound By old and outworn creeds, Heedless of warning cries around, Blind to the nation's needs,

Deaf to the lessons Life imparts, To Reason's great appeal—

But never dare to say our hearts Are cold to England's weal !

Say not our sympathies are small, Too straitened to embrace Our distant kinsmen, one and all, The men of British race,

In citied home, or floating barge, On ranch, or veld, or heath—

Soil not our strife with such a charge !— We fling it in your teeth!

Count not this realm of ocean walls A manor of your own !

Nor dream its builders' mantle falls Upon yourselves alone !

Doubt not, we have our visions too Of Empire fair and just, We own the call, no less than you, To destiny august.

And since we look to see our land Long honoured and revered, We fear to touch with reckless hand The fabric Time has reared.

We trust our brethren ! Ye are fain To make our compact safe With bonds too weak to bear the strain, Yet strong to fret and chafe.

Can hearts be bought, and faith compelled, With gold, which is but dust?

Nay !—Hearts are won, and hearts are held, By memory, love, and trust !

AMY M. SMITH.