Lines Read at a Dairymaids' Social, 1887
Where the young lady waiters were dressed as dairymaids.
Throughout the world they do extol
The fame of our town Ingersoll,
The capital of dairyland,
To-night it seems like fairy land,
The youth and beauty here arrayed,
So sweet and neat each dairymaid.
And worthy of a poet's theme,
Sweet and smooth flows milk and cream,
For song or glee what is fitter
In this land of cheese and butter,
But no young man should be afraid
To court a pretty dairymaid.
And far abroad he should not roam
But find a charmer here at home,
Find some one now your heart to chear,
Thus celebrate the jubilee year,
Remember long this ladies' aid
And each bewitching dairymaid.
poem by James McIntyre
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Related quotes
The King's Breakfast
The King's Breakfast
The King asked
The Queen, and
The Queen asked
The Dairymaid:
"Could we have some butter for
The Royal slice of bread?"
The Queen asked the Dairymaid,
The Dairymaid
Said, "Certainly,
I'll go and tell the cow
Now
Before she goes to bed."
The Dairymaid
She curtsied,
And went and told
The Alderney:
"Don't forget the butter for
The Royal slice of bread."
The Alderney
Said sleepily:
"You'd better tell
His Majesty
That many people nowadays
Like marmalade
Instead."
The Dairymaid
Said, "Fancy!"
And went to
Her Majesty.
She curtsied to the Queen, and
She turned a little red:
"Excuse me,
Your Majesty,
For taking of
The liberty,
But marmalade is tasty, if
It's very
Thickly
Spread."
The Queen said
"Oh!:
And went to
His Majesty:
"Talking of the butter for
The royal slice of bread,
Many people
Think that
Marmalade
Is nicer.
Would you like to try a little
Marmalade
Instead?"
The King said,
"Bother!"
And then he said,
"Oh, deary me!"
The King sobbed, "Oh, deary me!"
And went back to bed.
"Nobody,"
He whimpered,
"Could call me
A fussy man;
I only want
A little bit
Of butter for
My bread!"
The Queen said,
"There, there!"
And went to
The Dairymaid.
The Dairymaid
Said, "There, there!"
And went to the shed.
The cow said,
"There, there!
I didn't really
Mean it;
Here's milk for his porringer,
And butter for his bread."
The Queen took
The butter
And brought it to
His Majesty;
The King said,
"Butter, eh?"
And bounced out of bed.
"Nobody," he said,
As he kissed her
Tenderly,
"Nobody," he said,
As he slid down the banisters,
"Nobody,
My darling,
Could call me
A fussy man -
BUT
I do like a little bit of butter to my bread!"
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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Father Ranney, the Cheese Pioneer
When Father Ranney left the States,
In Canada to try the fates,
He settled down in Dereham,
Then no dairyman lived near him;
He was the first there to squeeze
His cow's milk into good cheese,
And at each Provincial show
His famed cheese was all the go.
Then long life to Father Ranney
May he wealth and honour gain aye.
He always took the first prize
Both for quality and size,
But many of his neighbors
Now profit by his labors,
And the ladies dress in silk
From the proceeds of the milk,
But those who buy their butter,
How dear it is, they mutter.
Then long life to Father Ranney
May he wealth and honour gain aye.
Now we close this glorious theme,
This song of curds and rich cream,
You can buy your hoops and screws,
And all supplies for dairy use,
Milk cans and vats, all things like these
In Ingersoll great mart for cheese,
Here buyers do congregate
And pay for cheese the highest rate.
So we call on you again aye,
To honor Father Ranney.
poem by James McIntyre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Celebrate Me Home
Home for the holidays,
I believe Ive missed each and every face,
Come on and play my music,
Lets turn on the love light in the place
Its time I found myself,
Totally surrounded in your circles
Whoa, my friends
Please, celebrate me home,
Give me a number,
Please, celebrate me home
Play me one more song,
That Ill always remember,
And I can recall,
Whenever I find myself too all alone,
I can sing me home.
Uneasy highway,
Traveling where the westerly winds can fly,
Somebody tried to tell me,
But the men forgot to tell me why,
I gotta count on being gone,
Come on woman, come on daddy,
Be what you want from me,
Im this strong, Ill be weak
Please, celebrate me home,
Give me a number,
Please, celebrate me home
Play me one more song,
That Ill always remember,
I can recall,
Whenever I find myself too all alone,
I can make believe Ive never gone,
I never know where I belong,
Sing me home.
Please, celebrate me home,
Give me a number,
Please, celebrate me home
Play me one more song,
Celebrate, celebrate
Celebrate, celebrate
Celebrate, celebrate
Celebrate me home
Please, celebrate me home,
Please, celebrate me home,
Well Im finally here,
But Im bound to roam,
Come on celebrate me home
Well Im finally here,
But Im bound to roam,
Come on celebrate me home
Well Im finally here,
But Im bound to roam,
Come on celebrate me home
Please, celebrate me home,
Please, celebrate me home,
Please, celebrate me home,
Please, celebrate me home,
Please, celebrate me home,
Please, celebrate me home,
(fade)
song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dairy Ode
Our muse it doth refuse to sing
Of cheese made early in the spring,
When cows give milk from spring fodder
You cannot make a good cheddar.
The quality is often vile
Of cheese that is made in April,
Therefore we think for that reason
You should make later in the season.
Cheese making you should delay
Until about the first of May.
Then cows do feed on grassy field
And rich milk they abundant yield.
Ontario cannot compete
With the Northwest in raising wheat,
For cheaper there they it can grow
So price in future may be low.
Though this a hardship it may seem,
Rejoice that you have got the cream,
In this land of milk and honey,
Where dairy farmers do make money.
Utensils must be clean and sweet,
So cheese with first class can compete,
And daily polish up milk pans,
Take pains with vats and with milk cans.
And it is important matter
To allow no stagnant water,
But water from pure well or stream
The cow must drink to give pure cream.
Canadian breeds 'tis best to pair
With breeds from the shire of Ayr,
They thrive on our Canadian feed
And are for milking splendid breed.
Though 'gainst spring cheese some do mutter,
Yet spring milk also makes bad butter,
Then there doth arise the query
How to utilize it in the dairy.
The milk it floats in great spring flood
Though it is not so rich and good,
Let us be thankful for this stream
Of milk and also curds and cream.
All dairymen their highest aims
Should be to make the vale of Thames,
Where milk doth so abundant flow,
Dairyland of Ontario.
poem by James McIntyre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oxford Cheese Makers Song
When Father Ranney left the States
In Canada to try the fates,
He settled down in Dereham,
Then no dairyman lived near him.
He was the first there to squeeze
His cows milk into good cheese,
And at each Provincial Show
His famed cheese was all the go.
CHORUS.
Then long life to Father Ranney,
May he wealth and honor gain, aye !
He always took the first prize,
Both for quality and size ;
But many of his neighbors
Now profit by his labors.
And the ladies dress in silk
From the proceeds of the milk :
But those who buy their butter,
' How dear it is,' they mutter.
CHORUS.
Then long life to Father Ranney,
May he his health retain, aye !
Farmers now can not be beat
With their cheese and their wheat,
Though now their greatest care is
For to watch o'er their dairies ;
They carefully fill their mows
With provender for their cows,
And they thus enrich the soil
With much profit for their toil.
CHORUS.
We will sing this refrain, aye,
Long life to Father Ranney.
The motto, 'Union is Strength,'
Is carried out at length
In the most compact array
At every cheese factory.
You'll see without going as far as
There is one kept by Harris,
The factory of Ingersoll,
Just out at the first toll.
CHORUS.
May he never suffer pain, aye,
The father of cheesemen, Ranney.
Or you may go all the way
To see one kept by Galloway,
And out in the Norwiches
Dairymen are making riches;
And honor has been won
By Harvey Farrington ;
The same path is trodden
By folks about Culloden.
CHORUS.
May his strength never wane, aye,
The great dairyman, Ranney.
And of late we saw some
Very good cheese from Lawson ;
All around Mount Elgin
Dairymen have well done;
And out in East Nissouri
They make some scores a day ;
From Jarvis and Elliott
Some good cheese is bought.
CHORUS
And we will all remain, aye,
Indebted to Father Ranney.
Now we close this glorious theme,
This song of curds and rich cream,
Subject worthy of our muse,
You can buy your hoops and screws,
Boxes and vats, all things like these,
In Ingersoll, great mart for cheese ;
Here buyers all do congregate,
And pay for cheese the highest rate.
CHORUS.
So we call on you again, aye,
To honor Father Ranney.
poem by James McIntyre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As Sweet As Honey
Come to the land of beauty to taste my love,
For there is a special creamy milk set for you to taste;
Come to the land of love to taste the true meaning of my love,
For there you will meet the beautiful young ladies!
And the handsome men are there to cheer you up.
This is like a folklore story of love and,
You will love to stay the night in your nakedness;
For te land is full of sweet aroma of words,
And my love is as sweet as honey.
You will be infused with the rivers along the line and,
You will hear the music of love being played daily;
For your health will be taken care with my love.
You will visit me again and again after your first experience,
For the sweet taste of love is the thing that you need;
And i am the example of the things that moves your love.
There is a dramatic act of love out here and,
You will like to run naked in the dark as well;
And you will live on to love me,
For i am as sweet as honey and your dreams will come true!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Land Is Mine
From behind these walls I hear your song
Oh sweet words
The music that you play lights up my world
The sweetest that I've heard
Could it be that I've been touched and turned?
Oh love, please finally, finally things are changing
This land is mine
But I let you rule
I let you navigate and demand
Just as long as you know
This land is mine
So find your home and settle in
Oh I'm ready to let you in
Just as long as we know
This land is mine
After all the battles and the wars
The scars and loss
Well I'm still the queen of my domain
And feeling stronger now
The walls are down a little more each day
Since you came finally, finally things are changing
This land is mine
But I let you rule
I let you navigate and demand
Just as long as you know
This land is mine
So find your home and settle in
Oh I'm ready to let you in
Just as long as we know
This land is mine
Follow the days I've travelled alone
In this cold and colorless place till now
It's what I had to pay
This land is mine
But I let you rule
I let you navigate and demand
Just as long as you know
This land is mine
So find your home and settle in
Oh I'm ready to let you in
Just as long as we know
This land is mine
This land is mine but I let you rule
I let you navigate and demand
Just as long as you know this land is mine
song performed by by Dido
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fairy
Said Ann to Matilda, 'I wish that we knew
If what we've been reading of fairies be true.
Do you think that the poet himself had a sight of
The fairies he here does so prettily write of?
O what a sweet sight if he really had seen
The graceful Titania, the Fairy-land Queen!
If I had such dreams, I would sleep a whole year;
I would not wish to wake while a fairy was near.-
Now I'll fancy that I in my sleep have been seeing
A fine little delicate lady-like being,
Whose steps and whose motions so light were and airy,
I knew at one glance that she must be a fairy.
Her eyes they were blue, and her fine curling hair
Of the lightest of browns, her complexion more fair
Than I e'er saw a woman's; and then for her height,
I verily think that she measured not quite
Two feet, yet so justly proportioned withal,
I was almost persuaded to think she was tall.
Her voice was the little thin note of a sprite-
There-d'ye think I have made out a fairy aright?
You'll confess, I believe, I've not done it amiss.'
'Pardon me,' said Matilda, 'I find in all this
Fine description, you've only your young sister Mary
Been taking a copy of here for a fairy.'
poem by Charles Lamb
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Find My Fortune
Backwoods killer from a river town
A mixed up kid that let his hair hang down
High school rebel, hes always been bad
And his poor old mans still wondring bout the lad
But hes gone, gone away to find his fortune.
Theres a long-haired lady lookin for a home
With her young son, hed left them both alone
And his black-haired lovers got a broken heart
cause her lonely boy just wont play the part
cause hes gone, gone away to find his fortune.
And its been a long, long way
From that little town to l.a.
And I cant turn around
Ladies, Im gone, gone away to find my fortune.
A restless nature fed my crazy dreams
So I packed my bags in a big limousine
Laughed at the people who were laughin at me
Laughed and said Im gonna be what I be
And Im gone, gone away to find my fortune.
song performed by by Reo Speedwagon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Children
See a young girl so soft and blonde.
Doesnt attack me but she did once.
Intoxications in her veins.
Sweet young boy plays with her brain.
Lydiall bring to life.
What are your chance not to oblige.
Putting his hand on her thigh.
Ability has now been ripped.
Take it away, Id rather sit.
Sweet children, sweet children, sweet children. remember when.
Johnnys playing fun and games, or else hes ? in the storage shed? .
Running from the light of day, or maybe lie and celebrate.
The funny circus from his head.
Follow me if you understand.
Ill trick her so shell do it.
Then Ill sing and now we run.
Sweet children, sweet children, sweet children. remember when.
Sweet children, sweet children, sweet children. remember when.
song performed by by Green Day
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sing A Song For You
in my heart is where I long for you
in my smile I search for you
each time you turn and run away I cry inside
my silly way, just too young to know any more
in my world the devil dances and dares
to leave my soul just anywhere
until I find peace in this world
I'll sing a song everywhere I can
just too young to know any more
the wind covers me cold
the starry skies all around my eyes
far behind the city moans
well worthy of the people there
oh, the psalms they love to hear
so let me sing a song for you
just to help your day along
let me sing a song for you
one I've known so very long
oh, please could you find the time
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oxford Cheese Ode
The ancient poets ne'er did dream
That Canada was land of cream,
They ne'er imagined it could flow
In this cold land of ice and snow,
Where everything did solid freeze,
They ne'er hoped or looked for cheese.
A few years since our Oxford farms
Were nearly robbed of all their charms,
O'er cropped the weary land grew poor
And nearly barren as a moor,
But now the owners live at ease
Rejoicing in their crop of cheese.
And since they justly treat the soil,
Are well rewarded for their toil,
The land enriched by goodly cows,
Yie'ds plenty now to fill their mows,
Both wheat and barley, oats and peas
But still their greatest boast is cheese.
And you must careful fill your mows
With good provender for your cows,
And in the winter keep them warm,
Protect them safe all time from harm,
For cows do dearly love their ease,
Which doth insure best grade of cheese.
To us it is a glorious theme
To sing of milk and curds and cream,
Were it collected it could float
On its bosom, small steam boat,
Cows numerous as swarm of bees
Are milked in Oxford to make cheese.
poem by James McIntyre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Ode to the Queen on Her Jubilee Year
Sound drums and trumpets, far and near!
And Let all Queen Victoria's subjects loudly cheer!
And show by their actions that they revere,
Because she's served them faithfully fifty long year!
All hail to the Empress of India and Great Britain's Queen!
Long may she live happy and serene!
And as this is now her Jubilee year,
I hope her subjects will show their loyalty without fear.
Therefore let all her subjects rejoice and sing,
Until they make the welkin ring;
And let young and old on this her Jubilee be glad,
And cry, "Long Live our Queen!" and don't be sad.
She has been a good Queen, which no one dare gainsay,
And I hope God will protect her for many a day;
May He enable her a few more years to reign,
And let all her lieges say - Amen!
Let all hatred towards her be thrown aside
All o'er dominions broad and wide;
And let all her subjects bear in mind,
By God kings and queens are put in trust o'er mankind.
Therefore rejoice and be glad on her Jubilee day,
And try and make the heart of our Queen feel gay;
Oh! try and make her happy in country and town,
And not with Shakespeare say, "uneasy lies the head that wears a crown."
And as this is her first Jubilee year,
And will be her last, I rather fear:
Therefore, sound drums and trumpets cheerfully,
Until the echoes are heard o'er land and sea.
And let the innocent voices of the children at home or abroad
Ascend with cheerful shouts to the throne of God;
And sing aloud, "God Save our Gracious Queen!"
Because a good and charitable Sovereign she has been.
Therefore, ye sons of great Britain, come join with me,
And welcome in our noble Queen's Jubilee;
Because she has been a faithful Queen, ye must confess,
There hasn't been her equal since the days of Queen Bess.
Therefore let all her lieges shout and cheer,
"God Save our Gracious Queen!" for many a year;
let such be the cry in the peasant's cot, the hall,
With stentorian voices, as loud as they can bawl.
And let bonfires be kindled on every hill
And let her subjects dance around them at their freewill;
And try to drive dull care away
By singing and rejoicing on the Queen's Jubilee day.
May God protect her for many a day,
At home or abroad when she's far away;
Long may she be spared o'er her subjects to reign,
And let each and all with one voice say - Amen!
Victoria is a good Queen, which all he subjects know,
And for that may God protect her from every foe;
May He be as a hedge around her, as He's been all along.
And let her live and die in peace - is the end of my song.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Word from the Bards
IT IS New Year’s Day and I rise to state that here on the Sydney side
The Bards have commenced to fill out of late and they’re showing their binjies with pride
They’re patting their binjies with pride, old man, and I want you to understand,
That a binjied bard is a bard indeed when he sings in the Southern Land,
Old chaps,
When he sings in the Southern Land.
For the Southern Land is the Poet’s Home, and over the world’s wide roam,
There was never till now a binjied bard that lived in a poet’s home, old man;
For the poet’s home was a hell on earth, and I want you to understand,
That it isn’t exactly a paradise down here in the Southern Land,
Old chap,
Down here in the Southern Land.
The Beer and the Bailiff were gone last night and the “temple” doorstep clean,
And our heads are clear and our hearts are light with wine from the Riverine—
With wine from the Riverine, old man, and I want you to understand
That Bard, Beer and Bailiff too long were kin down here in the Southern Land,
Old man,
Down here in the Southern Land.
It is not because of a larger fee, nor yet that the bards are free,
For the bards I know and the bards I see are married enough for three;
Are married enough for three, old man, and I want you to understand,
They’ve a right to be married enough for four, down here in the Southern Land,
My girl,
Down here in the Southern Land.
But I think it’s because a bird went round and twittered in ears of men
That bards have care and the world seems bare as seen from the rhyming den,
And twittered in ears of men, old chaps, and got folks to understand
That a poet is something more than a joke down here in the Southern Land,
Old man,
Down here in the Southern Land.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Celebrate Youth
Celebrate Youth
by H-Blockx
Album: No Excuses
I can see the older man
Looking at the younger man
I can see the younger man
Looking at the boy
Over there the older woman
Looking at the younger woman
I can see the younger woman
Looking at the girl
'Cause every man sees
In the younger man the hope
Every woman sees
In the younger girl the dream
Everybody lives
The pride and passion of the young
From the womb to the tomb
We will remember what it means
Refrain:
So celebrate youth - celebrate
Those who have it - young ones
Celebrate youth - celebrate
Give them sight
The future of the world's in the -celebrate
Hands of children - young ones
So celebrate youth - celebrate
Teach them right
Looking in a child's face
There's no pride and no disgrace
There's no struggle there's no fight
I can see the older man
And sometimes in the older man
I still see the young boy
Burning in his eye
And locked up here inside our spirit
Is the child that we are, hear it
Some of us will always fear it
And some will heed the cry
'Cause every man sees
In the younger man the hope
Every woman sees
In the younger girl the dream
Everybody lives
The pride and passion of the young
From the womb to the tomb
We will remember what it means
Refrain:
So celebrate youth - celebrate
Those who have it - young ones
Celebrate youth - celebrate
Give them sight
The future of the world's in the -celebrate
Hands of children - young ones
So celebrate youth - celebrate
Teach them right
Looking in a child's face
There's no pride and no disgrace
There's no struggle, there's no fight
Fight like a youth brigade
Tear down your baricades
I know fear's a blade
Time's up, another decade
Fight to be free indeed
Wrap up the things you need
Imaturity
Celebrates the youth in me
Looking in a child's eye
There's no hate and there's no lie
There's no black and there's no white
Refrain:
So celebrate youth - celebrate
Those who have it - young ones
Celebrate youth - celebrate
Give them sight
The future of the world's in the -celebrate
Hands of children - young ones
So celebrate youth - celebrate
Teach them right
Looking in a child's eye
There's no hate and there's no lie
There's no black and there's no white
song performed by by H-BlockX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Funfair Love
Life is no game so,
Catch them young and ride them to victory.
From sunrise to sunset is the status of the young ones,
Like this young lady who is in love.
Life is no game so,
Play it well when you find your lover;
Like a groove little thing that sounds so sweet.
It is like a funfair love on my lover's lane,
And you've got me and i've got you;
All in this sweet paradise of love together.
Life is no game so,
Catch them young and ride them to victory.
Like a walk through Kingstown to Trench Town in Jamaica,
My love is real for you and yours is sweeter than the candy.
Every move i make is for you,
Every step i take is for you,
From coast to coast is your little thing which sounds so sweet;
Like a funfair love on a lover's lane!
You are so sweet my young lady,
And you have all that it takes on this love;
Like the sweet juice from the apple.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Old Poet Should Bless The Young
AN OLD POET SHOULD BLESS THE YOUNG
An old poet
If he wishes to be wise
Should remember
The young.
He should remember
That they live by love
And know joy
He no longer can.
He should understand
That the most intense hope and dream
Is with those
At the beginning.
An old poet
Should bless the young
For they have so much of the beauty and goodness
Of this world
The old can barely remember.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Young Woman From Paris In France
The one with brown eyes and brown hair her Hometown is Paris in France
She has such a sweet singing voice and to music she loves to dance
She is in her twenty fourth year and happy in her single life
For some very lucky young man she will make a beautiful wife.
Her accent is easy to love like the lilt to a beautiful song
Of her voice one never could tire I'd listen to her all day long
To this Town she's like a breath of fresh air not many French people live here
Except for the rare tourist who stop for a break from travel I meet one perhaps once a year.
She has such an old World charm and she has such a beautiful face
And she doesn't find it hard for to smile a woman of charm and grace
'Twould be nice if here she did settle but in our Town I know she won't stay
The young woman from Paris in France from home she is so far away.
She says she will go home next year in beautiful May of the Spring
In the green parks of Paris in France she will hear the birds whistle and sing
And on the verandah of her old home with family and friends out of the glare of the sunshine
She will sing along in the sing song as she enjoys a glass of good French made wine.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Easy Street
Ive had enough of forever being told what to say and do
Ive had enough
Ive had enough being always pushed around by the likes of you
Im making some plans of my own now
And you know what you can do
Im so tired
Tired of the man giving me such a hard, hard time
Im so tired
You make a man work so hard every day,
Dont you know its a crime
Always got to hit the deadline
When will I ever get some peace of mind
Ill find a girl thats rich and pretty
Ill get myself the key to the big city
Find a way to make some money
Move into the land of milk and honey
Everythings sweet and lifes a treat
Feel the heat on easy street
Im movin on
Movin on to a place that I see all the time in my dreams
Im movin on
Gone, gone, gone from the misery
Ive taken all that I can now
Gonna take my time on easy street
Ill find a girl thats rich and pretty
Get myself the key to the big city
Find a way to make some money
Move into the land of milk and honey
Everythings sweet and lifes a treat
Feel the heat on easy street
Ive found a girl thats rich and pretty
Got myself the key to the big city
Found a way to make some money
Moved into the land of milk and honey
Everythings sweet and lifes a treat
Feel the heat on easy street
(repeat)
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Old Land And The Young Land
The Young Land said, ``I have borne it long,
But can suffer it now no more;
I must end this endless inhuman wrong
Within hail of my own free shore.
So fling out the war-flag's folds, and let the righteous cannons roar!''
'Twas a quick, rash word, for the strong Young Land
Is a Land whose ways are peace;
It weareth no mail, and its keels are manned
With cotton, and corn, and fleece,
While lands there are that live cased in steel, and whose war-hammers never cease.
And these, when they saw the Young Land gird
Its loins to redress the wrong,
Whispered one to the other, ``Its heart is stirred,
But its hosts are an undrilled throng,
And its bolts yet to forge, so quick let us strike before that it grows too strong.''
And they said to the Old Land, ``Surely you
Will help us to foil its claim?
It waxeth in strength, as striplings do,
And it girds at its parent's name.
Take heed lest its overweening growth overshadow your fading fame.''
Then the Old Land said, ``Youth is strong and quick,
And Wisdom is strong but mild;
And blood than water is yet more thick,
And this Young Land is my child.
I am proud, not jealous, to watch it grow.''
Thus the Old Land spake and smiled.
``And look you,'' it said, ``at the strong Young Land
Strike for Freedom and Freedom's growth;
Which makes 'twixt us twain, though unsigned by hand,
A bond strong as lovers' troth.
So 'ware what you do, for, if you strike, you will strike not one, but both.''
Then they fretted and chafed; for, though shod in steel,
Their war-tread stops at the shore,
While the Old Land's breath is the breath of the gale,
And its music the wave-wind's roar.
Then they hated the Young Land's youth and strength, but they hated the Old Land more.
Now the Old Land, in turn, for Freedom's Cause
Speeds her sons to the Southern zone,
They snarl, ``Let us clip the Lion's claws,
The Lion that stands alone;
And harry her lair, and spear her cubs, and sit on the Lion's throne.''
And the Young Land laughs: ``With her foamsteeds fleet,
I guess she's a match for you all.
She hath saddled the sea, and more firm her seat
Than yours, that would ride for a fall,
If you put all your fighting force afield, and charged at her watery wall.
``But if ever, hemmed in by a world of foes,
Her sinews were sorely tried,
By the self-same blood in our veins that flows,
You would find me at her side,
So long as she strikes for the Cause for which her sons and my sons have died.''
And thus let it be until wrong shall end,
This bond strong as lovers' troth,
'Twixt Old Land and Young Land, to defend
Man's freedom and freedom's growth,
So if any should band against either now, they must meet, not one, but both!
poem by Alfred Austin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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