CORNWALL.*
0 LADIES of London town, do you know
Where our thoughts are proudly winging— This land, whose speech is soft and slow, Whose seas are swift and stinging P Have you heard at duels from a lifted bow Twenty fishermen singing ?
Do you know, 0 gentlemen brave and neat, This bluff old man by the jetty rail?
His face is weathered by sun, and sleet When spindrift froze on his red-patched sail; Have you watched with the wives for the homeward fleet Through the din of a sou'west gale ?
Have they told you, children, of cornflowers blue That fringe the beach where the seagulls call ? Little ones (rosier far than you!)
Chatter and play till the shadows full; Did they tell, 0 children dear—'tie true—
How the wild-thyme grows on the schoolhouse wall ?
We watched, dear land, at daylight's end Thy harbours in the darkening East, Watched the long sea-line slow ascend Till half the sun's red oval ceased, Saw gaunt Orion leaning West With blade unsheathed and shining helm, Watched Sirius, quick and vast, contest His way to some far Southern realm.
Thou art our splendid Mother-land; Deep in our hearts thy patient flame Burns, while with glistening eyes we stand And talk of thee and thy dear name.
WILFRID L. RANDELL.
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