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And makes him greyer daily；
He is a noble fellow yet；
And wears his old age gaily。
Still； dogs must die； and in the end；
When he is past caressing；
We'll mourn him like some human friend
Whose presence was a blessing。
Page： 182
Till then； be bread and peace his lot …
A life of calm and clover！
The pup may sleep outside with Spot …
We'll keep the nook for Rover。
Page： 183
THE MELBOURNE INTERNATIONAL
EXHIBITION
WRITTEN FOR MUSIC
I。
BROTHERS from far…away lands；
Sons of the fathers of fame；
Here are our hearts and our hands …
This is our song of acclaim。
Lords from magnificent zones；
Shores of superlative sway；
Awful with lustre of thrones；
This is our greeting to…day。
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Europe and Asia are here …
Shining they enter our ports！
She that is half of the sphere
Beams like a sun in our courts。
Children of elders whose day
Shone to the planet's white ends；
Meet； in the noble old way；
Sons of your forefather's friends。
II。
Dressed is the beautiful city … the spires of it
Burn in the firmament stately and still；
Forest has vanished … the wood and the lyres of it；
Lutes of the sea…wind and harps of the hill。
This is the region； and here is the bay by it；
Collins； the deathless； beheld in a dream：
Flinders and Fawkner； our forefathers grey； by it
Paused in the hush of a season supreme。
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Here； on the waters of majesty near to us；
Lingered the leaders by towers of flame：
Elders who turn from the lordly old year to us
Crowned with the lights of ineffable fame。
III。
Nine and seventy years ago；
Up the blaze of yonder bay；
On a great exalted day；
Came from seas august with snow …
Waters where the whirlwinds blow …
First of England's sons who stood
By the deep green； bygone wood
Where the wild song used to flow
Nine and seventy years ago。
Five and forty years ago；
On a grand auspicious morn
Page： 186
When the South Wind blew his horn；
Where the splendid mountains glow …
Peaks that God and Sunrise know …
Came the fearless； famous band；
Founders of our radiant land；
From the lawns where roses grow；
Five and forty years ago。
IV。
By gracious slopes of fair green hills；
In shadows cool and deep；
Where floats the psalm of many rills；
The noble elders sleep。
But while their children's children last；
While seed from seedling springs；
The print and perfume of their past
Will be as deathless things。
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Their voices are with vanished years；
With other days and hours；
Their homes are sanctified by tears …
They sleep amongst the flowers。
They do not walk by street or stream；
Or tread by grove or shore；
But； in the nation's highest dream；
They shine for evermore。
V。
By lawny slope and lucent strand
Are singing flags of every land；
On streams of splendour … bays impearled …
The keels are here of all the world。
With lutes of light and cymbals clear
We waft goodwill to every sphere。
The links of love to…day are thrown
From sea to sea … from zone to zone；
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And； lo！ we greet； in glory drest；
The lords that come from east and west；
And march like noble children forth
To meet our fathers from the North！
VI。
To Thee be the glory； All…Bountiful Giver！
The song that we sing is an anthem to Thee；
Whose blessing is shed on Thy people for ever；
Whose love is like beautiful light on the sea。
Behold； with high sense of Thy mercy unsleeping；
We come to Thee； kneel to Thee； praise Thee； and pray；
O Lord； in whose hand is the strength that is keeping
The storm from the wave and the night from the day！
Page： 189
BY THE CLIFFS OF THE SEA
IN MEMORY OF SAMUEL BENNETT
IN a far…away glen of the hills；
Where the bird of the night is at rest；
Shut in from the thunder that fills
The fog…hidden caves of the west …
In a sound of the leaf； and the lute
Of the wind on the quiet lagoon；
I stand； like a worshipper； mute
In the flow of a marvellous tune！
And the song that is sweet to my sense
‘‘Is； ‘‘Nearer； my God； unto Thee；''
But it carries me sorrowing hence；
To a grave by the cliffs of the sea。
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So many have gone that I loved …
So few of the fathers remain；
That where in old seasons I moved
I could never be happy again。
In the breaks of this beautiful psalm；
With its deep； its devotional tone；
And hints of ineffable calm；
I feel like a stranger； alone。
No wonder my eyes are so dim …
Your trouble is heavy on me；
O widow and daughter of him
Who sleeps in the grave by the sea！
The years have been hard that have pressed
On a head full of premature grey；
Since Stenhouse went down to his rest；
And Harpur was taken away。
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In the soft yellow evening…ends；
The wind of the water is faint
By the home of the last of my friends …
The shrine of the father and saint。
The tenderness touching … the grace
Of Ridley no more is for me；
And flowers have hidden the face
Of the brother who sleeps by the sea。
The vehement voice of the South
Is loud where the journalist lies；
But calm hath encompassed his mouth；
And sweet is the peace in his eyes。
Called hence by the Power who knows
When the work of a hero is done；
He turned at the message； and rose
With the harness of diligence on。
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In the midst of magnificent toil；
He bowed at the holy decree；
And green is the grass on the soil
Of the grave by the cliffs of the sea。
I knew him； indeed； and I knew；
Having suffered so much in his day；
What a beautiful nature and true
In Bennett was hidden away。
In the folds of a shame without end；
When the lips of the scorner were curled；
I found in this brother a friend …
The last that was left in the world。
Ah！ under the surface austere
Compassion was native to thee；
I send from my solitude here
This rose for the grave by the sea。
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To the high； the heroic intent
Of a life that was never at rest；
He held； with a courage unspent；
Through the worst of his days and the best。
Far back in the years that are dead
He knew of the bitterness cold
That saddens with s