POETRY.

THE PLOUGH.

Fecod Egypt behind my oxen with their stately step and slow Northward and East and West I went to the desert sand and the. snow;

-Down through the centuries one by one, turning the clod to the shower, Till-there'snever eland beneath the sun but has blossomed behind my -power.

I slid through the sodden rioefields with my grunting hump- backed steers, r turned the turf of the Tiber plain in Rome's Imperial years; I was-left in the halfdrawn furrow when Coriolanus came Giving his farm for the Forum's stir to save his nation's name. Over the seas to the North I went; white cliffs and a seaboard blue;

And my path was glad in the English grass as my stout red Devons drew ; My path was glad in the English grass, for behind me rippled and-

. curled -The corn that was life to the sailor men that sailed the ships of the world.

And later I went to the North again, and day by day drew down

A little more of purple hills-to join to my kingdom brown ; And the whaups wheeled out to the moorland, but the grey gulls

stayed with me - .Where the Clydesdales drummed a marching -song with their, feathered feet on the lea.

.Then the new lands called me-Westward ; I found on- _the wallies.

wide.

A toil to ray stoutest-daring and.a.foe to test my pride ; But I stooped my strength to the stiff black loam, and I found,my,. labour sweet.

As r loosened' the sell that was- trampled firm by a million buffaloes'- feet:

Then further away to the Northward ; outward and outward. still (But idle I crossed the Rockies, fonthere no plough may till !):

Till I won to the plains unending, and. there on, the edge et the

snow *I ribbed them the fenneteqs wheatfields, and taught them to reap and sow.

The sun of the Southland calledme; I turned her the rich brown, lines Where her Parramatte, peach-trees- grow and her green Milflura vinea;

I drove.her cattle before me, herAnst, and her-dying sheep,, I painted her rieh plains golden and taught her--to sowlinda'eap.. ' From Egypt behind my oxeü with stately step and slaw'.

.

I have carried your Weightiest burden, ye toilers that reap stud sow!

I am the Ruler, the King, and I hold' the world 1k-fee ; ' ' ; Sword upon sword may rive but the triumph Shall rest Witli me I.