O India, India, O my lovely land… At whose sweet throat the greedy… With fangs and lips that suck and… Clings, while around thee, band by… The loathsome shape twists, chaini…

One thing we praise you for that i… The dauntless eyes that faced the… The hand that never wearied in the… Till, through the dark’s despair,… It rose, that vision of forgotten…

COME then, let us at least know… Let us not blink our eyes and say We did not understand; old age or… Benumbed our sense or stole our si… It is a lie—just that, a lie—to de…

WHERE’ER I go in this dense Ea… In sunshine or shade, I retch at the villainous feast That England has made, And my shame cannot understand,

SWEETEST, in desperate hours Of clouds and lightning and rain, You came like a vision of flowers And summer and song once again: You came, and I could not receive…

UP from the oven pit, The hell where poor men toil, At the sunset hour he comes Clean-clothed, washed from soil. On the fo’c’s’le head he kneels,

(For the Ballarat statue of him) THIS is Scotch William Wallace… Who in dark hours first raised his… Who watched the English tyrant No… Steel-clad, with iron hoofs the S…

FROM the dusty jaded sunlight of… Through the open bedroom window wh… palms, There came a sound of music, thril… That startled me from slumber with…

‘Forty Years After’ COMRADE, yet a little further… Closes round and chills in darknes… Yet a little, by the cliff there,… Of the man who once was with us, c…

CRUEL City, London, London, Where, duped slaves of devils’ cre… Men and women desperate, undone, Dream such dreams, and do such dee… London, London, cruel city,

‘HE holds a pistol to my head, Swearing he will shoot me dead, If he have not my purse instead, The robber!’ ‘He, with the lash of wealth and p…

CROUCHED in the terrible land, The circle of pitiless ice, With frozen bloody feet And her pestilential summer’s Fever-throb in her brow,

(PARIS) I STOOD in Père-la-Chaise. The… Paris, the harlot of the nations,… The bug-bright thing that knows no… Flashing her bare shame to the sum…

(Song of the American Sons of La… The Song O WE knew so well, dear Father, When we answered to your call, And the Southern Moloch stricken

A Memory LITTLE elfin maid, Old, though scarce two years, With your big dark hazel eyes Tenderer than tears,