We hold no converse with its denizens;
But on the lands o’er which our island hangs,
We shed fair gifts of plenty and of peace—
Health and contentment—charity—goodwill;
Drop tears of love upon the thirsty earth,
And shower fair waters on the growing grain.
This is our mission.
Eth.’Tis a goodly one!
I’d give my sword—ay, and my sword-arm too,
If thou wouldst anchor for a year or so