Successful Recitations | Page 5

stately ship, the bulwark of the Isle; The Soldier
loves his sword, and sings of tented plains the while; But we will hang
the ploughshare up within our fathers' halls, And guard it as the deity of
plenteous festivals:
We'll pluck the brilliant poppies, and the far-famed barley-corn, To
wreathe with bursting wheat-ears that outshine the saffron morn; We'll
crown it with a glowing heart, and pledge our fertile land, The
ploughshare of old England, and her sturdy peasant band!
The work it does is good and blest, and may be proudly told, We see it
in the teeming barns, and fields of waving gold: Its metal is unsullied,
no blood-stain lingers there; God speed it well, and let it thrive
unshackled everywhere.
The bark may rest upon the wave, the spear may gather dust, But never
may the prow that cuts the furrow lie and rust. Fill up! fill up! with
glowing heart, and pledge our fertile land, The ploughshare of old
England, and her sturdy peasant band.

THE STORY OF ABEL TASMAN.
(DISCOVERER OF TASMANIA.)
BY FRANCES S. LEWIN.
Bold and brave, and strong and stalwart, Captain of a ship was he, And
his heart was proudly thrilling With the dreams of chivalry. One fair
maiden, sweet though stately, Lingered in his every dream, Touching
all his hopes of glory With a brighter, nobler gleam.
Daughter of a haughty father, Daughter of an ancient race, Yet her
wilful heart surrendered, Conquered by his handsome face; And she
spent her days in looking Out across the southern seas, Picturing how
his bark was carried Onward by the favouring breeze.
Little wonder that she loved him, Abel Tasman brave and tall; Though
the wealthy planters sought her, He was dearer than them all. Dearer
still, because her father Said to him, with distant pride, "Darest thou, a
simple captain, Seek my daughter for thy bride?"
But at length the gallant seaman Won himself an honoured name;
When again he met the maiden, At her feet he laid his fame: Said to her,
"My country sends me, Trusted with a high command, With the
'Zeehan' and the 'Heemskirk,' To explore the southern strand."
"I must claim it for my country, Plant her flag upon its shore; But I
hope to win you, darling, When the dangerous cruise is o'er." And her
haughty sire relenting, Did not care to say him nay: Flushing high with
love and valour, Sailed the gallant far away.
And the captain, Abel Tasman, Sailing under southern skies, Mingled
with his hopes of glory, Thoughts of one with starlight eyes. Onward
sailed he, where the crested White waves broke around his ship, With
the lovelight in his true eyes, And the song upon his lip.
Onward sailed he, ever onward, Faithful as the stars above; Many a

cape and headland pointing Tells the legend of his love: For he linked
their names together, Speeding swiftly o'er the wave-- Tasman's Isle
and Cape Maria, Still they bear the names he gave.
Toil and tempest soon were over, And he turned him home again,
Seeking her who was his guiding Star across the trackless main.
Strange it seems the eager captain Thus should hurry from his prize,
When a thousand scenes of wonder Stood revealed before his eyes.
But those eyes were always looking, Out toward the Java seas, Where
the maid he loved was waiting-- Dearer prize to him than these. But his
mission was accomplished, And a new and added gem Sparkled with a
wondrous lustre In the Dutch king's diadem.
Little did the gallant seaman Think that in the days to be, England's
hand should proudly wrest it From his land's supremacy.

THE GROOM'S STORY.
BY A. CONAN DOYLE.
Ten mile in twenty minutes! 'E done it, sir. That's true. The big bay
'orse in the further stall--the one wot's next to you. I've seen some better
'orses; I've seldom seen a wuss, But 'e 'olds the bloomin' record, an'
that's good enough for us.
We knew as it was in 'im. 'E's thoroughbred, three part, We bought 'im
for to race 'im, but we found 'e 'ad no 'eart; For 'e was sad and
thoughtful, and amazin' dignified, It seemed a kind o' liberty to drive
'im or to ride;
For 'e never seemed a-thinkin' of what 'e 'ad to do. But 'is thoughts was
set on 'igher things, admirin' of the view. 'E looked a puffect pictur, and
a pictur 'e would stay, 'E wouldn't even switch 'is tail to drive the flies
away.
And yet we knew 'twas in 'im; we knew as 'e could fly; But what we

couldn't get at was 'ow to make 'im try. We'd almost turned the job up,
until at last one day, We got the last yard out of