| PAGE |
| A Nation spoke to a Nation, | 104 |
| As our mother the Frigate, bepainted and fine, | 9 |
| Before a midnight breaks in storm, | vii |
| Duly with knees that feign to quake, | 123 |
| For things we never mention, | 39 |
| God gave all men all earth to love, | 81 |
| Her hand was still on her sword-hilt, the spur was still on her heel, | 118 |
| In extended observation of the ways and works of man, | 107 |
| Now the Four-way Lodge is opened, now the Hunting Winds are loose, | 44 |
| Oh glorious are the guarded heights, | 70 |
| Oh Hubshee, carry your shoes in your hand and bow your head on your breast! | 113 |
| Oh ye who tread the Narrow Way, | 90 |
| Said England unto Pharaoh, ‘I must make a man of you,’ | 98 |
| Take up the White Man’s burden, | 94 |
| The God of Fair Beginnings, | 32 |
| ‘There’s no sense in going further—it’s the edge of cultivation,’ | 61 |
| The strength of twice three thousand horse, | 13 |
| They christened my brother of old, | 4 |
| This is our lot if we live so long and labour unto the end, | 57 |
| We have no heart for the fishing, we have no hand for the oar, | 26 |
| We’ve sent our little Cupids all ashore, | 23 |
| When I was a King and a Mason—a Master proven and skilled, | 78 |
| When that great Kings return to clay, | 74 |
| When the darkened Fifties dip to the North, | 87 |
| Where run your colts at pasture, | 18 |
| Who hath desired the Sea?—the sight of salt water unbounded, | 1 |
| With those that bred, with those that loosed the strife, | 77 |
| Yearly, with tent and rifle, our careless white men go, | 51 |
