The sea is at our doors, and we front its fretted floors,
Swept by every wind that listeth, ringed with reefs from rim to rim,
Though we may not break its bars,
Yet by light of sun or stars
Our hearts are fain for England, and for her our eyes are dim.

Sweet Mother, ponder this, lest thy favour we should miss;
We, the loneliest and least of all thy peoples of the sea.
With bared heads and proud
We bless thy name aloud,
For gift of lowly service, as we guard the gate for thee.

Those lines, to me, have a fine ring about them. The words, "In very
will and deed, We will serve thee at thy need," were not a mere empty
boast, as the splendid record of little Bermuda in the years of
trouble from 1914 to 1918 shows, when almost every man of military
age, whether white or coloured, voluntarily crossed the Atlantic to
help the motherland in her need; so let us wish all success to the
sun-kissed, cedar-clad little islands, and to their genial
inhabitants.




CHAPTER VIII

The demerits of the West Indies classified--The utter ruin of
St. Pierre--The Empress Josephine--A transplanted
brogue--Vampires--Lost in a virgin forest--Dictator-Presidents