Skip to content
Linespedia

John Cornstalk

Topics: classic

John Cornstalk lives in the Southern Land,     What says Cornstalk John?     Jack Cornstalk says in a loud firm voice:     Land of the South, lead on.     CHORUS:      Land of the South, lead on, lead on,             Land of the South, lead on!             Land of the South, lead on, lead on,             Lead on, Land of the South!     John Bull lays claim to the Southern Land.     Jack, is the South Land thine?     John Cornstalk cries in a loud, firm voice:     The Land of the South is mine!      Land of the South, lead on, lead on,             Land of the South, lead on!             Land of the South, lead on, lead on,             Lead on, Land of the South!     By the long, long years my father toiled     In the pioneering band;     By the hardships of those early days,     I claim the Southern Land!      Land of the South, lead on, lead on,             Land of the South, lead on!             Land of the South, lead on, lead on,             Lead on, Land of the South!     But where shall the Land of the South lead to?     Where lead the nations van?     Jack Cornstalk cries from his strong young heart:     To the Dynasty of Man.      Land of the South, lead on, lead on,             Land of the South, lead on!             Land of the South, lead on, lead on,             Lead on, Land of the South!

AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.

About this line

"John Cornstalk lives in the Southern Land,..."

Henry Lawson's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "John Cornstalk"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...

Classified Tags

Related lines

"His old clay pipe stuck in his mouth,     His hat pushed from his brow,     His dress best fitted for the South,     I think I see him now;"

"There is a quiet gentleman a-motoring in France     (Oh, dont you hear the honking of a British motor-car?),     Like any quiet gentleman that"

"A fresh sweet-scented beauty     Came tripping down the street;     She was as fair a vision     As you might chance to meet.     A masher rai"

"O bard of fortune, you deem me nought     But a mark for your careless scorn.     For I am the echo-less grave of thought     That is strangled"

"Here morning in the ploughman's songs is met     Ere yet one footstep shows in all the sky,     And twilight in the east, a doubt as yet,     S"

"The Text is taken from Percy's Reliques (1765), vol. i. p. 71, 'given from two MS. copies, transmitted from Scotland.' Herd had a very similar bal"

Continue Reading

"His old clay pipe stuck in his mouth,     His hat ..."

Weekly Poetic Insight

Join our literary Sanctuary

Get the most inspiring lines, poetic analysis, and secret shayaris delivered to your inbox every Sunday.