There are those who try to my power deny, Defying my ancient law. Who would e'en be free, as they turn to flee Again to the paths of yore. As I watch them go, in my heart I know 'Tis but to return again. For the things that are, and the things that were To them are no more the same. They are mine for aye till their bones decay, And others shall fill their trail. They are mine to seek by the gorge and creek, The South, or the Northland's veil. They are mine to live, they are mine to die, Predestined by fate's decree To a choice that is not of their choosing, Yet willing my sons to be. For the seed is sown and they e'en must roam My boundaries wild and wide Till I bid them rest from an endless quest, And sleep where the trails divide. In the nameless graves where the big grass waves And shadows of empire fall They are sleeping the sleep of the ages, Awaiting the last great call. _'Twas so at the first, 'twill be to the last, The wanderer still must roam. For the fates decreed that the gypsy breed Forever must trail alone. In the silent land by the lonely fire, Midst wilderness old and grey, They are blending with dreams of to-morrow "What might have been" yesterday._ FOREVER Do I dream, dear love, of the years that live In memory's sacred bower? Do I vision again in the twilight, Midst quiet of the evening hour, That I hold you close as in days that fled, And whisper "Dear love, dear love," While I fancy you murmur "Forever," My girl, from your home above? Do I speak to you vainly, my darling, And fancy I see you yet? Do I dream, as the shadows are falling. Of words I can ne'er forget? Do I cling to a hope that was broken, The wreck of what might have been: Then, my darling, may God in His mercy Forever just let me dream. L'ENVOI And now to you whose story I have vainly tried to tell, With lisping tongue and faltering pen, wherever you may dwell, O'ershadowed by the Southern Cross, or camping in the wild, The fellows who the city's rush and cares have ne'er defiled. In weary lands I've seemed to roam again as yesterday, And pierced the shadowed silence of the fallen in the fray. O'er coulee, camp and mountain trail, I've dreamed with strange delight And known again the wilderness, the hunger and the night. You've known the luring of the East, the Himalayan Heights, You've known the fevered Gold Coast, or the mystic Northern Lights. You've played the game without the gain, but love the tie that binds, The God above, the loneliness, ye makers of the lines. I've spoken of the ones who pay, a grave out in the plain; You tread the path they all have trod, and follow in their train; From Egypt and the Upper Nile, to where the Rockies stand, You've seen it all, you've heard the call, to civilize the land.