Clasp hands, O fair republic of the west, 
And leave the kingdoms to their sudden fate. 
With new-born love and ardour unrepressed, 
Let Lethe steep in its unquiet rest 
The old years whose red hands have made us great. 
O fair republic, strong and swift, unbind 
The shackles of thy mind : 
More than our kin ye are ; henceforth not less than kind. 
 
Bind on the splendid sandals, and unloose 
The burning horses, and fling wide the reins ! 
From cold Archangel unto Syracuse 
Europe shall see and tremble and ask truce, 
And new blood pour through Asia’s wasted veins. 
Our Empire from Guiana to Hong Kong, 
In your new love made strong, 
Shall last while earth is glad because of sun and song. 
 
And O !  ye desert places of the sea, 
Ye plains and mountains rugged with the wind, 
And all ye hollow caverns whence there flee 
Foam-heads and blusterous waves, give ear to me, 
And O thou thunder, follow hard behind ! 
O womb of night, reverberate these chords, 
Ye clouds, ye stormy lords, 
With clamour and shrill voice as of ten thousand swords.
 
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