Burn, changeful purple of the vine’s cool stream ! 
Burn, like the sunset of a stormy sky 
When white winds gather, and white horses gleam 
Upon the ocean, and the meadows steam 
With haze of thunder, when the crimson eye 
Dips, and deep darkness falls and lies, and breaks 
In lightning’s awful flakes, 
When thunder unto thunder calls and the storm awakes. 
 
With maddening hoofs, ye coursers of the sun, 
Spurn the reverberant air and paw the day, 
Make east and west indissolubly one, 
And night fall beaten, for its day is spun, 
And bid light gird its sword to thigh, display 
The shield of heaven’s blue, and call the deep 
To watch the warrior sleep 
Of two fast friends that wake only if brave men weep. 
 
Wake, western land so fair, and this shall be ! 
Speak and accomplish, let no ardour slip, 
A sullen hound, ad be brought shamefully 
Back, and resurge the tremor of the sea, 
And spoil a perfect kiss from free land’s lip. 
Of fair free sister country, for our sake, 
Who at thy side would break 
All bars, all bonds, and bid the very dead awake.
 
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