The work it does is good and blest, and may be proudly told,
We see it in the teeming barns, and fields of waving gold: 
Its metal is unsullied, no blood-stain lingers there;
God speed it well, and let it thrive unshackled everywhere.

The bark may rest upon the wave, the spear may gather dust,
But never may the prow that cuts the furrow lie and rust. 
Fill up! fill up! with glowing heart, and pledge our fertile land,
The ploughshare of old England, and her sturdy peasant band.

THE STORY OF ABEL TASMAN.

(Discoverer of Tasmania.)

By Frances S. Lewin.

Bold and brave, and strong and stalwart,
  Captain of a ship was he,
And his heart was proudly thrilling
  With the dreams of chivalry. 
One fair maiden, sweet though stately,
  Lingered in his every dream,
Touching all his hopes of glory
  With a brighter, nobler gleam.

Daughter of a haughty father,
  Daughter of an ancient race,
Yet her wilful heart surrendered,
  Conquered by his handsome face;
And she spent her days in looking
  Out across the southern seas,
Picturing how his bark was carried
  Onward by the favouring breeze.

Little wonder that she loved him,
  Abel Tasman brave and tall;
Though the wealthy planters sought her,
  He was dearer than them all. 
Dearer still, because her father
  Said to him, with distant pride,
“Darest thou, a simple captain,
  Seek my daughter for thy bride?”

But at length the gallant seaman
  Won himself an honoured name;
When again he met the maiden,
  At her feet he laid his fame: 
Said to her, “My country sends me,
  Trusted with a high command,
With the ‘Zeehan’ and the ‘Heemskirk,’
  To explore the southern strand.”

“I must claim it for my country,
  Plant her flag upon its shore;
But I hope to win you, darling,
  When the dangerous cruise is o’er.” 
And her haughty sire relenting,
  Did not care to say him nay: 
Flushing high with love and valour,
  Sailed the gallant far away.

And the captain, Abel Tasman,
  Sailing under southern skies,
Mingled with his hopes of glory,
  Thoughts of one with starlight eyes. 
Onward sailed he, where the crested
  White waves broke around his ship,
With the lovelight in his true eyes,
  And the song upon his lip.

Onward sailed he, ever onward,
  Faithful as the stars above;
Many a cape and headland pointing
  Tells the legend of his love: 
For he linked their names together,
  Speeding swiftly o’er the wave—­
Tasman’s Isle and Cape Maria,
  Still they bear the names he gave.

Toil and tempest soon were over,
  And he turned him home again,
Seeking her who was his guiding
  Star across the trackless main. 
Strange it seems the eager captain
  Thus should hurry from his prize,
When a thousand scenes of wonder
  Stood revealed before his eyes.