A blue line to the westward that surely is not cloud;
A green tinge in the waters; a clamorous bird-crowd;
Then far-off foamy edges, and hill-tops timber fringed;
...
Sing us the Land of the Southern Sea,
The land we have called our own;
Tell us what harvest there shall be
From the seed that we have sown.
...
The sunlight from the sky is swept,
But, over Snowdon's summit kept,
One brand of cloud yet burns,
...
Argument.
I. - The House being ready, Victoria prepares to receive the nations whom she has invited.
...
I. Thanksgiving.
Star, on thy Heaven-returning way,
Our message of thanksgiving bear;
To Him who answered with thy ray
...
And the birds of the air have nests.”
Belated swallow, whither flying?
The day is dead, the light is dying,
...
She heard the story of the end,
Each message, too, she heard;
And there was one for every friend;
For her alone, no word.
...
O happy day, with seven-fold blessings set
Amid thy hallowed hours, the memories dear
Of childhood's holidays, and household cheer,
When friends and kin in loving circle met,
...
A radiance in the midnight sky
No white moon gave, nor yellow star;
We thought its red glow mounted high
Where fire and forest fought afar,
...
His silent spirit from the place
Slid forth unseen; amid the throng
Of those whose love outlived disgrace,
Whose fealty to the last was strong.
...