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Carlyle’s reference to Paine is amusing: “Nor is our England without her missionaries. She has her Paine: rebellious staymaker; unkempt; who feels that he, a single needleman, did, by his Common-Sense Pamphlet, free America—that he can and will free all this World; perhaps even the other.” (French Revolution.)

Buy my English posies!

You that will not turn—

Buy my hot-wood clematis,

Buy a frond o’ fern

Gather’d where the Erskine leaps

Down the road to Lorne—

Buy my Christmas creeper

And I’ll say where you were born!

West away from Melbourne dust holidays begin—

They that mock at Paradise woo at Cora Lynn—

Through the great South Otway gums sings the great South Main—

Take the flower and turn the hour, and kiss your love again!

Buy my English posies!

Ye that have your own

Buy them for a brother’s sake

Overseas, alone.

Weed ye trample underfoot

Floods his heart abrim—

Bird ye never heeded,

O, she calls his dead to him!

Far and far our homes are set round the Seven Seas;

Woe for us if we forget, we that hold by these!