| |
| GOD girt her about with the surges | |
| And winds of the masterless deep, | |
| Whose tumult uprouses and urges | |
| Quick billows to sparkle and leap; | |
| He filled from the life of their motion | 5 |
| Her nostrils with breath of the sea, | |
| And gave her afar in the ocean | |
| A citadel free. | |
| |
| Her never the fever-mist shrouding, | |
| Nor drought of the desert may blight, | 10 |
| Nor pall of dun smoke overclouding | |
| Vast cities of clamorous night, | |
| But the voice of abundance of waters, | |
| Cold rivers that stay not or sleep, | |
| Greets children, the sons and the daughters | 15 |
| Of light and the deep. | |
| |
| Lo! here where each league hath its fountains | |
| In isles of deep fern and tall pine, | |
| And breezes snow-cooled on the mountains, | |
| Or keen from the limitless brine, | 20 |
| See men to the battlefield pressing | |
| To conquer one foe—the stern soil, | |
| Their kingship in labour expressing, | |
| Their lordship in toil. | |
| |
| Though young they are heirs of the ages, | 25 |
| Though few they are freemen and peers, | |
| Plain workers—yet sure of the wages | |
| Slow Destiny pays with the years. | |
| Though least they and latest their nation, | |
| Yet this they have won without sword— | 30 |
| That Woman with Man shall have station, | |
| And Labour be lord. | |
| |
| The winds of the sea and high heaven | |
| Speed pure to her kissed by the foam; | |
| The steeds of her ocean undriven, | 35 |
| Unbitted and riderless roam, | |
| And clear from her lamp newly lighted | |
| Shall stream o’er the billows upcurled | |
| A light as of wrongs at length righted, | |
| Of hope to the world. | 40 |
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