我的同胞们,虽然我们年轻尚未点燃tle history, nought to show Of lives enleagued against a foreign foe, Torn flags and triumph, glory or regret; Still some things make our kinship sweet, Some deeds inglorious but of royal worth, As when with tireless arms and toiling feet We felled the tree and tilled the earth. ?Tis no great way that we have travelled since Our feet first shook the storied dust Of England from them, when with love and trust In one another, and large confidence In God above, our ways were ta?en ?Neath alien skies?each keeping step in mind And soul and purpose to one trumpet strain, One urging music on the wind: Yet tears of ours have wet the dust, have wooed Some subtle green things from the ground? Like violets?only violets never wound Such tendrils round the heart: the solitude Has seen young hearts with love entwine; And many gentle friends gone down to death Have mingled with the dust, and made divine The very soil we tread beneath. Thus we have learned to love our country, learned To treasure every inch from foam To foam; to title her with name of Home; To light in her regard a flame that burned No land in vain, that calls the eyes Of men to glory heights and old renown; That wild winds cannot quench, nor thunder-skies Make dim, nor many waters drown. Six hearths are circled round our shores, and round The six hearths group a common race, Though leagues divide, the one light on their face; The same old songs and stories rise; the sound Of kindred voices and the dear Old English tongue make music; and men move From hearth to hearth with little fear Of aught save open arms and love. To keep these hearth-fires red, to keep the door Of each house wide?that is our part: Surely ?tis noble! Surely heart to heart, God?s love upon us and one goal before, Is something worth; something to win Our hearts to effort; something it were good To garner soon; and something ?twould be sin To cast aside in wanton mood. My Countrymen, hats off! with heart and will Thank God that you are free, and then Arise and don your nationhood like men, And manlike face the world for good or ill. Peace be to you, and in the tide Of years great plenty till Time?s course be run: Six Ploughmen in the same field side by side, But, if need be, six Swords as one.