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Home  »  The Oxford Book of Australasian Verse  »  100 . The Circling Hearths

Walter Murdoch (1874–1970). The Oxford Book of Australasian Verse. 1918.

By Roderic Quinn

100 . The Circling Hearths

MY Countrymen, though we are young as yet

With little history, nought to show

Of lives enleagued against a foreign foe,

Torn flags and triumph, glory or regret;

Still some things make our kinship sweet,

Some deeds inglorious but of royal worth,

As when with tireless arms and toiling feet

We felled the tree and tilled the earth.

’Tis no great way that we have travelled since

Our feet first shook the storied dust

Of England from them, when with love and trust

In one another, and large confidence

In God above, our ways were ta’en

’Neath alien skies—each keeping step in mind

And soul and purpose to one trumpet strain,

One urging music on the wind:

Yet tears of ours have wet the dust, have wooed

Some subtle green things from the ground—

Like violets—only violets never wound

Such tendrils round the heart: the solitude

Has seen young hearts with love entwine;

And many gentle friends gone down to death

Have mingled with the dust, and made divine

The very soil we tread beneath.

Thus we have learned to love our country, learned

To treasure every inch from foam

To foam; to title her with name of Home;

To light in her regard a flame that burned

No land in vain, that calls the eyes

Of men to glory heights and old renown;

That wild winds cannot quench, nor thunder-skies

Make dim, nor many waters drown.

Six hearths are circled round our shores, and round

The six hearths group a common race,

Though leagues divide, the one light on their face;

The same old songs and stories rise; the sound

Of kindred voices and the dear

Old English tongue make music; and men move

From hearth to hearth with little fear

Of aught save open arms and love.

To keep these hearth-fires red, to keep the door

Of each house wide—that is our part:

Surely ’tis noble! Surely heart to heart,

God’s love upon us and one goal before,

Is something worth; something to win

Our hearts to effort; something it were good

To garner soon; and something ’twould be sin

To cast aside in wanton mood.

My Countrymen, hats off! with heart and will

Thank God that you are free, and then

Arise and don your nationhood like men,

And manlike face the world for good or ill.

Peace be to you, and in the tide

Of years great plenty till Time’s course be run:

Six Ploughmen in the same field side by side,

But, if need be, six Swords as one.