Patrick Regan has kindly shared the material from his Robert Buchanan site with readers of the Victorian Web, who may wish to consult the original.

    This is the Song of the Weak
        Trod 'neath the heel of the Strong!
    This is the Song of the hearts that break
        And bleed as we ride along, —
From sea to sea we singing sweep, but this
            is the slain man's Song!

    Southward, a shriek of pain,
        As the martyr'd races fall!
    The wild man's land and his herds we gain,
        With the gold that's best of all, —
Because the leaves of the tree are black 'tis
            meet that they should fall!

    Eastward, another cry,
        Wrung from the black and red!
    But merrily our hosts go by,
        Trampling the quick and dead, —
'Tis meet that the heathen tribes should
            starve, and the Christian dogs be fed.

    Westward, close at the door,
        A cry for bread and light!
    But lo, we hug our golden store
        And feast from morn to night: —
Our brother Esau must perish too, altho'
            his skin be white!

    In the name of the Jingo-Christ
        We raise our savage song,
    In gold the martyr's blood is priced
        Wherever we march along,
How should we heed our brother's cry, —
            he is weak and we are strong!

    We have sow'd, and lo! we reap,
        We are strong, and lo! we slay;
    We are lords of Earth and Deep,
        And this is our triumph-day, —
The broken wave and the broken heart are
            spent, and vanish away!

    Ever the Weak must fall
        Under the strength of the Strong!
    And God (they say), who is Lord of all,
        Smiles as we sweep along;
Yet tho' we are strong and our song is loud,
            this is the slain man's Song!

(From Song's of Empire)

Last modified 27 September 2002