<h2> In the Days When the World was Wide </h2>
<p>The world is narrow and ways are short, and our lives are dull and slow,<br/>
For little is new where the crowds resort, and less where the wanderers go;<br/>
Greater, or smaller, the same old things we see by the dull road-side —<br/>
And tired of all is the spirit that sings<br/>
of the days when the world was wide.<br/>
<br/>
When the North was hale in the march of Time,<br/>
and the South and the West were new,<br/>
And the gorgeous East was a pantomime, as it seemed in our boyhood's view;<br/>
When Spain was first on the waves of change,<br/>
and proud in the ranks of pride,<br/>
And all was wonderful, new and strange in the days when the world was wide.<br/>
<br/>
Then a man could fight if his heart were bold,<br/>
and win if his faith were true —<br/>
Were it love, or honour, or power, or gold, or all that our hearts pursue;<br/>
Could live to the world for the family name, or die for the family pride,<br/>
Could fly from sorrow, and wrong, and shame<br/>
in the days when the world was wide.<br/>
<br/>
They sailed away in the ships that sailed ere science controlled the main,<br/>
When the strong, brave heart of a man prevailed<br/>
as 'twill never prevail again;<br/>
They knew not whither, nor much they cared —<br/>
let Fate or the winds decide —<br/>
The worst of the Great Unknown they dared<br/>
in the days when the world was wide.<br/>
<br/>
They raised new stars on the silent sea that filled their hearts with awe;<br/>
They came to many a strange countree and marvellous sights they saw.<br/>
The villagers gaped at the tales they told,<br/>
and old eyes glistened with pride —<br/>
When barbarous cities were paved with gold<br/>
in the days when the world was wide.<br/>
<br/>
'Twas honest metal and honest wood, in the days of the Outward Bound,<br/>
When men were gallant and ships were good — roaming the wide world round.<br/>
The gods could envy a leader then when 'Follow me, lads!' he cried —<br/>
They faced each other and fought like men<br/>
in the days when the world was wide.<br/>
<br/>
They tried to live as a freeman should — they were happier men than we,<br/>
In the glorious days of wine and blood, when Liberty crossed the sea;<br/>
'Twas a comrade true or a foeman then, and a trusty sword well tried —<br/>
They faced each other and fought like men<br/>
in the days when the world was wide.<br/>
<br/>
The good ship bound for the Southern seas when the beacon was Ballarat,<br/>
With a 'Ship ahoy!' on the freshening breeze,<br/>
'Where bound?' and 'What ship's that?' —<br/>
The emigrant train to New Mexico — the rush to the Lachlan Side —<br/>
Ah! faint is the echo of Westward Ho!<br/>
from the days when the world was wide.<br/>
<br/>
South, East, and West in advance of Time — and, ay! in advance of Thought<br/>
Those brave men rose to a height sublime — and is it for this they fought?<br/>
And is it for this damned life we praise the god-like spirit that died<br/>
At Eureka Stockade in the Roaring Days<br/>
with the days when the world was wide?<br/>
<br/>
We fight like women, and feel as much; the thoughts of our hearts we guard;<br/>
Where scarcely the scorn of a god could touch,<br/>
the sneer of a sneak hits hard;<br/>
The treacherous tongue and cowardly pen, the weapons of curs, decide —<br/>
They faced each other and fought like men<br/>
in the days when the world was wide.<br/>
<br/>
Think of it all — of the life that is! Study your friends and foes!<br/>
Study the past! And answer this: 'Are these times better than those?'<br/>
The life-long quarrel, the paltry spite, the sting of your poisoned pride!<br/>
No matter who fell it were better to fight<br/>
as they did when the world was wide.<br/>
<br/>
Boast as you will of your mateship now — crippled and mean and sly —<br/>
The lines of suspicion on friendship's brow<br/>
were traced since the days gone by.<br/>
There was room in the long, free lines of the van<br/>
to fight for it side by side —<br/>
There was beating-room for the heart of a man<br/>
in the days when the world was wide.<br/>
<br/>
. . . . .<br/>
<br/>
With its dull, brown days of a-shilling-an-hour<br/>
the dreary year drags round:<br/>
Is this the result of Old England's power?<br/>
— the bourne of the Outward Bound?<br/>
Is this the sequel of Westward Ho! — of the days of Whate'er Betide?<br/>
The heart of the rebel makes answer 'No!<br/>
We'll fight till the world grows wide!'<br/>
<br/>
The world shall yet be a wider world — for the tokens are manifest;<br/>
East and North shall the wrongs be hurled that followed us South and West.<br/>
The march of Freedom is North by the Dawn! Follow, whate'er betide!<br/>
Sons of the Exiles, march! March on! March till the world grows wide!<br/></p>
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