English Lustrared Magazine a long and very spirited poem, entitled "A Song of the Buglish,' written in view of the opening of the Imperial Institute. Tt opens with poens of five stanzas in the following manner Keep ye the Law—be swift in all obedience. Clear the land of evil, drive the road and bridge the ford.
Make ye sure to each his own That he reap when he has sown By the peace among Our peoples let men know we serve the Lord.
Then follow six stanzas called The Const wise Lights'
We greet the clippers wing-and-wing that ace the Southern wool We warn the crawling cargo-tanks of Bremen, Leith, and Hull To each and all our equal lamp in equal jeopardy—The white wall-sided warships or the whalers of Dundee.
After this comes the 'Song of theDead':—There's never a flood goes shoreward now But lifts a keel we manned There's never an ebb goes seaward now But drops our dead on the sand—
But slinks our dead on the sands forlorn, From the Ducies to the Swin, If blood be the price of admiralty Good God, we ha? paid it in!
Then follow twelve strong lines in praise of the deep-sea cables Here in the womb of the world—here on the tie-ribs of earth Words and the words of men flicker and flutter and beat—Warning, sorrow ami gain, salutation and mirth—For a Power troubles the Still that has neither voice nor feet.
After this the 'Song of the Sons' and Song of the Cities. Each of the chief imperial cities is supposed to speak in turn, Thus Auckland speaks Last, loneliest, loveliest, exquisite, apart—On us, on' us the unswerving season smiles, Who wonder mid our fern why meu depart To seek the Happy Isles.
Then, finally, England answers The Law that ye make shall be law and I shall not press my will, Because ye are sous of The Blood andi call me Mother still.
Now ye must speak to your kinsman and they ninust speak to you After the use of the English in straight-fang words and few.
Stand to your work and be strong, halting not in your ways, Baulking the end half-won for an instant dole of praise.
Stand to your work and be wise—certain of sword and pen, Who are neither children nor Gods but men in a world of men!—China Mall.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.