THE FEDERATION ODE.

Greymouth Evening Star, Volume XXXI, 9 January 1901, Page 4

THE FEDERATION ODE.

The award of 50gs given by the N.S.W Government for tho best Commonwealth ode has been secured by Mr. George Essex Evans, of Toowoomb, Queensland. Mr. Evans has published several volumes of poetry, and is well-known throughout Australia as a literary man. He has been a men b:;.' of tho Queensland Civil Service for many years, and is at present connected with tho Lands Department, Toowoombh. The adjudicating committee —Mr, Justice Owen, Mr, E. Du Faur (president of the Art Gatlery), and Mr. Alexander Oliver (president of the Land Appeal Court— unhesisatingly selected the ode sent in by Mr. Evans. The ode sent in by Mr. Evans is as follows • A wake ! Arise! The wings of dawn Arc beating at the Gates of Day ! Tho morning Star has been withdrawn, The silver vapors melt away! Rise royally, O sun and crown The shoreward billow, streaming white The forelands and the mountains brown, With crested light: Flood with soft beams the valleys wide, The mighty plains, the desert sand, Till the New Day has won for bride This Austral land!

Freeborn of nations, virgin white, Not won by blood nor wringed with steel Thy throne is on a loftier height, Deep-rooted in the Commonwealth O thou, for whom the strong have wrought And poets sung with souls aflame, Born of long hope and patient thought, A mighty name— We pledge the faith that shall not swerve Our Land, Our Lady, breathing high The thought that makes it love to serve, And life to die !

Now are thy maidens linked in Love Who erst have striven for pride or place, Lifted all manner thoughts above, They greet thee one in heart and race, She in whose sunlit coves of peace The navies of the world may rest, And hear her wealth of snowy fleece Northward and west, And She whoso corn and rock-hewn gold Built that Queen City of the South, Where the lone bil’ow swept of old Her harbor mouth.

Come, too, thou Sun-maid, in whose veins For ever burns the tropic fire — Whose cattle roam a thousand plains — Come with thy gold and pearls for tire ; And that sweet Harvester, who twines The tender vine and binds the sheaf ; And She, the Western Queen, who mines The desert reef; Ami Thou, against whose flowery throne And orchards green tho wave is hurled, Australia claims you; ye are one Before the world;

Crown Her —most worthy to be praised— With eyes uplifted to the morn; For on this day a flag is raised, A triumph won, a nation born; And Ye, vast Army of the Dead, From mine and city, plain and sea, Who fought and dared, who toiled and bled That this might he— Draw round ns in this hour of fate, This golden harvest of thy hand ; With unseen lips, Oh consecrate And bless the land !

Eternal Power, Benign, Supreme, Who weigh’st the nations upon earth ; Without whose aid the Empire-dream And pride of States is nothing worth — From shameless speech and vengeful deed From license veiled in Freedom’s name From greed of gold and scorn of creed, Guard Thou our fame ; In stress of days, that yet may be, When hope shall rest upon the sword, In Welfare and Adversity, Be with us, Lord!