Classic Poem

O Cornwall! rocky land where “strangers” dwell,
Thy scenes inspire and cheer thy favour'd sons,
From Land's End, where the echoing breakers swell,
To where the Tamar's placid river runs;
And o'er wild oceans, in remotest lands,
The exiled ones who hold thy memory dear,
Would link with us in love, by clasping hands,
And swell the chanting of thy praises here!

Among thy verdant glens the winding streams
Dance joyously, with sunny smiles illum'd;
And lovers wander, wrapp'd in fairy dreams,
Beneath the trees with clust'ring foliage plumed:
The lark mounts high amid pellucid air,
O'er valleys nestling 'neath the tow'ring hills,
And pours aloft a flood of music rare,
As pure as pearly dew which earth distils.

Around thy rocky shores the billows break
In gentle emerald curves on sand and shell;
Or caverns' groans and muffled roar awake—
The sailors' requiem and funeral knell.
Along the beetling cliffs Time's fierce assaults
Have sear'd and hollow'd their resisting base;
But till the circling world God's herald halts,
No power thy majesty shall dare efface!

O Cornwall! On the scroll of history
Thy name is writ in ancient characters,
Until we reach the veil of mystery,
Where truth is hid, and speculation errs.
Aggressive nations cross'd the watery main
To claim thy min'ral treasure for their prize;
And bloody battle-fields, and warriors slain,
Awoke exultant shouts and heart-wrung cries.

Trace back a thousand years—yea, thousands more,
And there we learn from legends that thy fame
Drew bold Phœnicians from the Spanish shore,
And warlike Greek and Roman later came.
Perchance the metals from thy murky mines
Adorn'd the temple rear'd by Solomon,—
That Eastern sage whose crystal wisdom shines,
Though crumbling ruins mark the glory gone!

Still toil thy hardy miners for the tin
By Nature stor'd within her bowels deep;
With rolling waves o'erhead, and pent within
The heated ground, half-naked heroes creep.
Death's shadowy form stalks, silent, as they swing
The hewing pick, with arms like iron bars;
To quiv'ring threads of life they fearless cling,
'Twixt hollow Earth and Heaven's eternal stars!

And gallant seamen skirt thy storm-swept shore,
Nor fear the tempest's wrath or lightning's flash,
As in their tiny barques they scud before
The sobbing wind, while waters fiercely dash.
Mark how the silver fishes writhe and gleam,
Within the meshes caught,—a harvest rare!
Thy fisher sons, how joyous now they seem,
As shouts and merry laughter fill the air!

In golden fields, where waves the ripen'd corn,
The husbandmen wield scythes or bind the sheaves:
How light their hearts when filling Plenty's horn;
When crops are blighted, how each spirit grieves!
Thy marts are throng'd, and Trade's deep hum is heard;
Thy artisans ply busily their tools;
Thy halls with learning and with work are stirr'd,
From council chambers to the children's schools.

And now, O Cornwall, think of those bright names
In Science, Art, and Literature enrolled,—
Thy giants who, unmov'd by flood or flames,
Their life's work wrought, their stirring message told!
Fell Superstition fled before their march;
Light dawn'd, and stream'd into our waiting minds;
They rear'd o'er Beauty's shrine a rainbow arch,
And fadeless laurel now each forehead binds!

Look now, proud Cornwall, o'er the surging sea!
Behold the footprints traced on foreign soil!
In every land where thriveth Freedom's tree,
Thy wand'ring sons still roam and bravely toil!
They delve for gems to deck a monarch's crown;
They strive for bread to feed their cherish'd ones;
Pray God, they never may stoop basely down
To shame, which noble manhood ever shuns!

Join hands, ye Cornish lads, across the main!
Let Asia clasp Columbia's outstretch'd hand!
Come forth, Australia! Swell the glad refrain!
And touch the fringe of Afric's golden strand!
Swift o'er the boundless ocean rings the call!
The mystic girdle round the world is cast!
Shout now with thund'rous voices “One and All”!
All hail! Old Cornwall! May thy glory last!