Page:The Seven Seas (Kipling, 1896).djvu/73

Rh To the risk of a death by drouth—

To the men of a million acres,

To the Sons of the Golden South!

To the smoke of a hundred coasters,

To the sheep on a thousand hills,

To the sun that never blisters,

To the rain that never chills—

To the land of the waiting springtime,

To our five-meal, meat-fed men,

To the tall, deep-bosomed women,

And the children nine and ten!