Finds a safe haven for the stately craft.
So shall th' hesperian breezes of this day,
Swaying the mighty current of events,
And blending all our voices as we sing,
Breathe toward the zenith of the golden age
Of Truth and Knowledge of Divine intent,
When faith and science shall, convergent, build,
And hold the helm of England's ship of state.
IV.
And thus the murmur, flowing sweet and low,
Inspires a patriot flame within the fires
Aglow and flashing on the outer walls;
Ben Ledi sings an Himalayan hymn;
The ripple of the black tarn lightly rules
The matchless waves of broad Superior;
The meeting waters of Killarney charm
The dreamers of the slumbering Windermere;
The Continental Island Commonwealth
Wafts gentle breezes to the Isle of Wight;
And Britons of undying name and fame,
Victorious in death, as were the great
Epaminondas and Pelopidas,
Or marching to the songs of victory,
Reclaim the Rand and veldt beyond the Vaal.
What power shall know, or stay the steady flow
When Cam and Isis, and the Liffey join
The Fraser and the whelmintg avalanche,
Tumbling and roaring down the Columbian peaks,
And surging forward for one common goal,
One government, one fatherland, one flag!
The noisy torrents to the corries leap,
Join forces, dauntless, where the Corra falls,
And measure voices with Niagara
Whose deafening pillars, plunging, rise, and set,
Precipitous, above the brink, the Bow
Of Promise—emblem of Divine good will,
And arch of universal amity—
Here shall Britannia, peace-compelling, rest,
While rhythmic voices from the summer clouds,
And prismic hostages shall peace restore,
Or ever England's squadrons of the air,
Swift-sailing, speak, and shake the solid ground.
—3—
