That morning of deliverance is at hand ; 
The world requickens, and all folk rejoice, 
Seeing our kingdom look toward your land, 
And both catch hands, indissolubly grand 
In the proud friendship of a better choice. 
Your winds that wrought wild wreckage of our shore 
Shall sink and be no more, 
Or waft your barks, with wheat gold-laden swiftly o’er. 
 
Our foamcaps, that your rocks disdainful flung 
Back to the waves that left our beaten coast, 
Shall be like echoes of sweet songs unsung, 
And all the ocean noises find a tongue 
To voice the clamour of a righteous boast— 
That friendship and dominion shall be wrought 
Out of the womb of thought, 
And all the bygone days be held for things of nought. 
 
What matter though our fathers did you wrong ? 
Though brave sons brake our bitter yoke ?  Though we 
Strove to compel you to a cruel thong ? 
What, though the stronger did defeat the strong ? 
Both, wild and patient as the steep strong sea ? 
What matter that some strive to waken hate, 
Traitors to either state, 
Hang them in chains !  Our way to Freedom cannot wait !
 
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