VIII.
Dream on, ye souls who slumber here,
Leave work to those who work so well;
Yet workers too should haply hear
The messages that Dreamers tell.
The aims of this World shed a light,
Which shines with dim and feeble ray,
Whose followers wander all the night,
And scarce suspect it is not Day.
Yet work who will, the Night flies fast,
Means vary, but the end is one;
Each, when the waking throb is past,
Must face the all-beholding Sun.
I will sleep on, the starry cope
Arching my head with boundless blue,
Till life's strange dream is o'er, in hope
To wake, nor find it all untrue.
IX.
COLONISATION.
(I.)
Freemen of England, nourish in your mind
Love for your Land; though poor she be and cold,
Impute it not to her that she is old,
For in her youth she was both warm and kind.
True, it fits not that you should be confined
Within a grudging Island's narrow hold,
That bred, but cannot feed you. O be bold;
Blue heaven has many an excellent fair wind.
Steer, then, in multitudes to other land,
Work ye the field, the river, and the mine,
Smooth the high hill, and fell the long-armed pine,
Till all God's Earth be honourably manned;
But, that your glories may for ever stand,
Let Love be, with you, human and divine.