"THE last of England! O'er the sea, my dear, Our homes to seek amid Australian fields, Us, not our million-acred island yields The space to dwell in. Thrust out! Forced to hear Low ribaldry from sots, and share rough cheer With rudely-nurtur'd men. The hope youth builds Of fair renown, barter'd for that which shields Only the back, and half-form'd lands that rear The dust-storm blistering up the grasses wild. There learning skills not, nor the poet's dream, Nor aught so lov'd as children shall we see." She grips his listless hand and clasps her child, Through rainbow tears she sees a sunnier gleam, She cannot see a void, where he will be. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FROM THE DARK TOWER by COUNTEE CULLEN MEMORIAL TO D.C.: 5. ELEGY by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY SONNET: 22. TO THE SAME [CYRIACK SKINNER] by JOHN MILTON IMITATIONS OF HORACE: ODE IV, 1 by ALEXANDER POPE |