Tom - garlanded with squat and surly steel Tom; then Tom's fallowbootfellow piles pick By him and rips out rockfire homeforth - sturdy Dick; Tom Heart-at-ease, Tom Navvy: he is all for his meal...
The fine delight that fathers thought; the strong Spur, live and lancing like the blowpipe flame, Breathes once and, quench'd faster than it came, Leaves yet the mind a mother of immortal song....
To seem the stranger lies my lot, my life Among strang'rs. Father and mother dear, Brothers and sisters are in Christ not near And he my peace my parting, sword and strife....
To what serves mortal beauty | dangerous; does set danc- ing blood the O-seal-that-so | feature, flung prouder form Than Purcell tune lets tread to? | See: it does this: keeps warm...
What shall I do for the land that bred me, Her homes and fields that folded and fed me? - Be under her banner and live for her honour: Under her banner I'll live for her honour....