'Tis the Springtime of Australia, and the dazzled eye may see Wondrous dreams of future greatness--of the glories yet to be: Visions--not of martial conquest--not of courage, blood and fire-- But of lands by noble actions growing greater, grander, higher! Of the wond'ring nations turning--gazing with expectant eyes, While oppress'd and toiling millions feel new hopes and thoughts arise In the march of human progress as Australia leads the van To the world's great Federation, and the "parliament of Man!" Such the triumphs--aye, and grander, that the coming days shall see If Australia but be faithful to her glorious destiny; With the smile of Heav'n upon her in the future, as the past, Sweeping back the threat'ning war-clouds that her sky may overcast-- Like a stately white-wing'd vessel she shall keep her steadfast way-- Peace, o'er all her wide dominions, ruling with unbroken sway; And her progress be continued till the wings of Time are furled-- Her glorious page the brightest in the history of the world! W. L. LUMLEY. _THE MAN THAT SAVED THE MATCH._ BY DAVID M'KEE WRIGHT. (_By kind permission of the Author._) Our church ain't reckoned very big, but then the township's small-- I've seen the time when there was seats and elbow-room for all. The women-fold would come, of course, but working chaps was rare; They'd rather loaf about and smoke, and take the Sunday air. But now there's hardly standing room, and you can fairly say There ain't a man we like as well as quiet Parson Grey. We blokes was great for cricket once, we'd held our own so long, In all the townships round about our team was reckoned strong; And them that didn't use to play could barrack pretty fair, They liked the leather-hunting that they didn't have to share. A team from town was coming up to teach us how to play-- We meant to show what we could do upon that Christmas Day. The stumps were pitched at two o'clock, but Lawson's face was grim (Lawson was Captain of the team, our crack we reckoned him), For Albert Wilson hadn't come, the safest bat of all, With no one there to take his place he counted on a fall. "Who could we get? There's no one here it's worth our while to play In place of Albert." At his side was standing Parson Grey. "I used to wield the willow once," the Parson softly said; "If you have no one for the tail, you might take me instead." The Captain bit his fair moustache--he seemed inclined to swear; But answered sulkily enough, "All right, sir; I don't care. There's no one here is worth his salt with breaking balls to play." "I'll try and do my best for you," said quiet Parson Grey.