GREAT oaks, new felled, beside the pathway died
Of one who, pausing, looked on them and cried:
"The glory is departed clean away:
So end the life and hopes of yesterday!"
Then passing on, forgot, till chance, maybe,
Led him to where men christened for the sea
A ship, new built, and so there met his view
Earth's oldest miracle that's always new;
For, stedfast to uphold a well beloved
It seemed as if the waters had been moved
And that a Spirit dwelt thereon to give
Freedom for Service, that the ship might live.
Amazed, he sought her mariners to know
How she was fashioned to be favoured so?
Then memory revealed, e'er yet he spoke
Or, joyously, they answered, "English Oak."
[“The Times.”
There's a voice
... the breeze has spoken strangers, with a stirring tale to tell,
And a thousand eager voices flung the challenge out to sea:
"Come they hither in the old way, in the only way that's free?"
And the flying Breeze called softly: "In the old way . . ."
