Look southward, where Australia hears your voice,
And turns away!
O brutal hypocrite, she makes her choice
With the rising day!
Foul Esau, you who sold your high birthright
For gilded mud,
Who did the wrong and, priestlike, called it right,
And swindled God!
The hour is gone of insult, pain and patience;
The hour is come
When they arise, the faithful mightier nations,
To drag you down!
IV.
England, the land I loved
With passionate pride,
For hate of whom I live
Who for love had died,
Can I, while shines the sun,
That hour regain
When I again may come to thee
And love again?
No, not while that flag
Of greed and lust
Flaunts in the air, untaught
To drag the dust!—
Never, till expiant,
I see you kneel,
And, brandished, gleams aloft
The foeman’s steel!
Ah, then to speed, and laugh,
As my heart caught the knife:
“Mother, I love you! Here,
Here is my life!”