Part 35 (1/2)

The northern coast was supposed to be in lat.i.tude 10 Degrees S.

*3* Mr. R. H. Major discovered a map of Terra Australis dated A.D. 1555 and bearing the name of Le Testu, a French pilot.

Le Testu must have visited these coasts some years before the date of the chart.

*4* The sailors of the _Duyfken_, a Dutch vessel which entered the Gulf of Carpentaria in A.D. 1606, were attacked by the natives.

In the fray some of the whites were killed. No doubt these unlucky adventurers were the first Europeans buried in Australia.

*5* Dirk Hartog left a tin plate, bearing his name, in Shark Bay, Western Australia.

*6* The story of Tasman's love for Maria, the daughter of Governor Van Diemen, was generally accepted at the time Kendall wrote; but it has since been disproved. Maria was the wife of Antony Van Diemen, Governor of Batavia, who had no children.--Ed.

*7* Dampier.

*8* Botany Bay.

On that bold hill, against a broad blue stream, Stood Arthur Phillip in a day of dream: What time the mists of morning westward rolled, And heaven flowered on a bay of gold!

Here, in the hour that s.h.i.+nes and sounds afar, Flamed first old England's banner like a star; Here, in a time august with prayer and praise, Was born the nation of these splendid days; And here this land's majestic yesterday Of immemorial silence died away.

Where are the woods that, ninety summers back, Stood h.o.a.r with ages by the water-track?

Where are the valleys of the flas.h.i.+ng wing, The dim green margins and the glimmering spring?

Where now the warrior of the forest race, His glaring war-paint and his fearless face?

The banks of April and the groves of bird, The glades of silence and the pools unstirred, The gleaming savage and the whistling spear, Pa.s.sed with the pa.s.sing of a wild old year!

A single torrent singing by the wave, A shadowy relic in a mountain cave, A ghost of fire in immemorial hills, The whittled tree by folded wayside rills, The call of bird that hides in hollows far, Where feet of thunder, wings of winter are-- Of all that Past, these wrecks of wind and rain, These touching memories--these alone remain!

What sun is this that beams and broadens west?

What wonder this, in deathless glory dressed?

What strange, sweet harp of highest G.o.d took flame And gave this Troy its life, its light, its name?

What awful lyre of marvellous power and range Upraised this Ilion--wrought this dazzling change?

No s.h.i.+ning singer of h.e.l.lenic dreams Set yonder splendour by the morning streams!

No G.o.d who glimmers in a doubtful sphere Shed glory there--created beauty here!

This is the city that our fathers framed-- These are the crescents by the elders named!

The human hands of strong, heroic men Broke down the mountain, filled the gaping glen, Ran streets through swamp, built banks against the foam, And bent the arch and raised the lordly dome!

Here are the towers that the founders made!

Here are the temples where these Romans prayed!

Here stand the courts in which their leaders met!

Here are their homes, and here their altars yet!

Here sleep the grand old men whose lives sublime Of thought and action s.h.i.+ne and sound through time!

Who worked in darkness--onward fought their ways To bring about these large majestic days-- Who left their sons the hearts and high desires Which built this city of the hundred spires!

A stately Morning rises on the wing, The hills take colour, and the valleys sing.

A strong September flames beyond the lea-- A silver vision on a silver sea.

A new Age, ”cast in a diviner mould”, Comes crowned with l.u.s.tre, zoned and shod with gold!

What dream is this on lawny s.p.a.ces set?

What miracle of dome and minaret?

What great mute majesty is this that takes The first of morning ere the song-bird wakes?

Lo, this was built to honour gathering lands By Celtic, Saxon, Australasian hands!

These are the halls where all the flags unfurled Break into speech that welcomes all the world.

And lo, our friends are here from every zone-- From isles we dream of and from tracts unknown!

Here are the fathers from the stately s.p.a.ce Where Ireland is and England's sacred face!