Page:The Five Nations.djvu/173

 THE SETTLER

, where my fresh-turned furrows run,

And the deep soil glistens red,

I will repair the wrong that was done

To the living and the dead.

Here, where the senseless bullet fell,

And the barren shrapnel burst,

I will plant a tree, I will dig a well,

Against the heat and the thirst.

Here, in a large and a sunlit land,

Where no wrong bites to the bone,

I will lay my hand in my neighbour's hand,

And together we will atone

For the set folly and the red breach

And the black waste of it all,

Giving and taking counsel each

Over the cattle-kraal.

153