Page:Florence Earle Coates Mine and Thine 1904 055.jpg



are not twain, but one: though seas divide us—

The children of the English-speaking race—

This nothing now can change: whate'er betide us,

This is our birthright grace.

The tongue that holds our earliest recollection,

Whose accents moved us like a fond caress—

The tongue in which we lisped our first affection,

Must still attach and bless.