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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455798" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Wentworth</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis a new thing for Australia that the waters to her bear<br>One who seeks not strength of sunshine, or the breath of healing air;<br>One who reeks not of her riches, nor remembers she is fair;<br>One who land and houses, henceforth, holdeth not, for evermore;<br>Coming for such narrow dwelling as the dead need, to the shore<br>Named aforetime by the spirit to receive the garb it wore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis a strange thing for Australia that her name should be the name<br>Breathed ere death by one who loved her, claiming, with a patriot's claim,<br>Earth of her as chosen grave-place; rather than the lands of fame;<br>Rather than the Sacred City where a sepulchre was sought<br>For the noblest hearts of Europe; rather than the Country fraught<br>With the incense of the altars whence our household gods were brought.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis a proud thing for Australia, while the funeral-prayers are said,<br>To remember loving service, frankly rendered by the dead;<br>How he strove, amid the nations, evermore to raise her head.<br>How in youth he sang her glory, as it is, and is to be,<br>Called her “Empress,” while they held her yet as base-born, over sea,<br>Owned her “Mother,” when her children scarce were counted with the free!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How he claimed of King and Commons that his birthland should be used<br>As a daughter not an alien; till the boon, so oft refused,<br>Was withheld, at last, no longer; and the former bonds were loosed.<br>How the scars of serfdom faded. How he led within the light<br>Of her fireside Earth's Immortals; chrism-touched from Olympus' height;<br>Whom gods loved; for whom the New Faith, too, has guest-rooms garnished bright.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis a great thing for Australia; that her child of early years,<br>Shared her path of desert-travel, bread of sorrow, drink of tears,<br>Holding by her to these hill-tops, whence her Promised Place appears.<br>Titles were not hers to offer as the meed of service done;<br>Rank of peer or badge of knighthood, star or ribbon, she had none;<br>But she breathes a mother's blessing o'er the ashes of her son.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mary+Hannay+Foott">Mary Hannay Foott</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455798" data-title="Wentworth de Mary Hannay Foott" data-description="'Tis a new thing for Australia that the waters to her bear
One who seeks not strength of sunshine, or the breath of healing air;
One who reeks not of her riches, nor remembers she is fair;
One who land and houses, henceforth, holdeth not, for ever..."></div>
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