EMPIRE BUILDERS

THE BAY HORSE

     Squire wants the bay horse,
          For it is the best.
     Squire holds the mortgage;
          Where's the interest?
     Haven't got the interest,
          Can't raise a sou;
     Shan't sell the bay horse,
          Whatever he may do.

     Did you see the bay horse?
          Such a one to go!
     He took a bit of ridin',
          When I showed him at the Show.
     First prize the broad jump,
          First prize the high;
     Gold medal, Class A,
          You'll see it by-and-by.

     I bred the bay horse
          On the Withy Farm.
     I broke the bay horse,
          He broke my arm.
     Don't blame the bay horse,
          Blame the brittle bone,
     I bred him and I've fed him,
          And he's all my very own.

     Just watch the bay horse
          Chock full of sense!
     Ain't he just beautiful,
          Risin' to a fence!
     Just hear the bay horse
          Whinin' in his stall,
     Purrin' like a pussy cat
          When he hears me call.

     But if Squire's lawyer
          Serves me with his writ,
     I'll take the bay horse
          To Marley gravel pit.
     Over the quarry edge,
          I'll sit him tight,
     If he wants the brown hide,
          He's welcome to the white!





THE OUTCASTS

     Three women stood by the river's flood
          In the gas-lamp's murky light,
     A devil watched them on the left,
          And an angel on the right.

     The clouds of lead flowed overhead;
          The leaden stream below;
     They marvelled much, that outcast three,
          Why Fate should use them so.

     Said one: "I have a mother dear,
          Who lieth ill abed,
     And by my sin the wage I win
          From which she hath her bread."

     Said one: "I am an outcast's child,
          And such I came on earth.
     If me ye blame, for this my shame,
          Whom blame ye for my birth?"

     The third she sank a sin-blotched face,
          And prayed that she might rest,
     In the weary flow of the stream below,
          As on her mother's breast.

     Now past there came a godly man,
          Of goodly stock and blood,
     And as he passed one frown he cast
          At that sad sisterhood.

     Sorely it grieved that godly man,
          To see so foul a sight,
     He turned his face, and strode apace,
          And left them to the night.

     But the angel drew her sisters three,
          Within her pinions' span,
     And the crouching devil slunk away
          To join the godly man.





THE END

     "Tell me what to get and I will get
             it."
          "Then get that picture — that — the
             girl in white."
     "Now tell me where you wish that I should
             set it."
          "Lean it where I can see it — in the
             light."

     "If there is more, sir, you have but to say
             it."
          "Then bring   those  letters — those
             which lie apart."
     "Here is the packet! Tell me where to
            lay it."
          "Stoop over, nurse, and lay it on
            my heart."

     "Thanks for  your  silence,  nurse! You
            understand me!
          And now  I'll   try  to  manage  for
            myself.
     But, as you go, I'll trouble you to hand
            me
          The small blue bottle there upon the
            shelf.

     "And so farewell! I feel that I am
            keeping
          The sunlight from you; may your
            walk be bright!
     When you return I may perchance be
            sleeping,
          So, ere you go, one hand-clasp
            and good night!"





1902-1909

     They recruited William Evans
          From the ploughtail and the spade;
     Ten years' service in the Devons
          Left him smart as they are made.

     Thirty or a trifle older,
          Rather over six foot high,
     Trim of waist and broad of shoulder,
          Yellow-haired and blue of eye;

     Short of speech and very solid,
          Fixed in purpose as a rock,
     Slow, deliberate, and stolid,
          Of the real West-country stock.

     He had never been to college,
          Got his teaching in the corps,
     You can pick up useful knowledge
          'Twixt  Saltash and  Singapore.

     Old Field-Cornet Piet van Celling
          Lived just northward of the Vaal,
     And he called his white-washed dwelling,
          Blesbock Farm, Rhenoster Kraal.

     In his politics unbending,
          Stern of speech and grim of face,
     He pursued the never-ending
          Quarrel with the English race.

     Grizzled hair and face of copper,
          Hard as nails from work and sport,
     Just the model of a Dopper
          Of the fierce old fighting sort.

     With a shaggy bearded quota
          On commando at his order,
     He went off with Louis Botha
          Trekking for the British border.

     When Natal was first invaded
          He was fighting night and day,
     Then he scouted and he raided,
          With De Wet and Delaney.

     Till he had a brush with Plumer,
          Got a bullet in his arm,
     And returned in sullen humour
          To the shelter of his farm.

     Now it happened that the Devons,
          Moving up in that direction,
     Sent their Colour-Sergeant Evans
          Foraging with half a section.

     By a friendly Dutchman guided,
          A Van Eloff or De Vilier,
     They were promptly trapped and hided,
          In a manner too familiar.

     When the sudden scrap was ended,
          And they sorted out the bag,
     Sergeant Evans lay extended
          Mauseritis in his leg.

     So the Kaffirs bore him, cursing,
          From the scene of his disaster,
     And they left him to the nursing
          Of the daughters of their master.

     Now the second daughter, Sadie —
          But the subject why pursue?
     Wounded youth and tender lady,
          Ancient tale but ever new.

     On the stoep they spent the gloaming,
          Watched the shadows on the veldt,
     Or she led her cripple roaming
          To the eucalyptus belt.

     He would lie and play with Jacko,
          The baboon from Bushman's Kraal,
     Smoked Magaliesberg tobacco
          While she lisped to him in Taal.

     Till he felt that he had rather
          He had died amid the slaughter,
     If the harshness of the father
          Were not softened in the daughter.

     So he asked an English question,
          And she answered him in Dutch,
     But her smile was a suggestion,
          And he treated it as such.

     Now among Rhenoster kopjes
          Somewhat northward of the Vaal,
     You may see four little chappies,
          Three can walk and one can crawl.

     And the blue of Transvaal heavens
          Is reflected in their eyes,
     Each a little William Evans,
          Smaller model — pocket size.

     Each a little Burgher Piet
          Of the hardy Boer race,
     Two great peoples seem to meet
          In the tiny sunburned face.

     And they often greatly wonder
          Why old granddad and Papa,
     Should have been so far asunder,
          Till united by mamma.

     And when asked, "Are you a Boer.
          Or a little Englishman?"
     Each will answer, short and sure,
          "I am a South African."

     But the father answers, chaffing,
          "Africans but British too."
     And the children echo, laughing,
          "Half of mother — half of you."

     It may seem a crude example,
          In an isolated case,
     But the story is a sample
          Of the welding of the race.

     So from bloodshed and from sorrow,
          From the pains of yesterday,
     Comes the nation of to-morrow
          Broadly based and built to stay.

     Loyal spirits strong in union,
          Joined by kindred faith and blood;
     Brothers in the wide communion
          Of our sea-girt brotherhood.





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